North Coast Journal May 8, 2008 : IN THE NEWS : SHORT STORIES

May 8, 2008

ReBuffetted | ArMack Maestros

Yurok tribal member Richard Myers addresses Berkshire Hathaway shareholders last Saturday. Photo submitted by Matt Mais, Yurok Tribe.

ReBuffetted

Last weekend, Chook-Chook Hillman of the Karuk Tribe got in line outside of the 30,000-seat Qwest Center in Omaha, Neb., at 1 o'clock in the morning and waited. The 23-year-old wasn't hoping to catch a glimpse of his favorite rock star. He had a higher mission. He wanted to secure a spot in front of one of the arena's 12 microphones at Berkshire Hathaway's annual shareholders' meeting to get the chance to tell Warren Buffett, the world's richest man, that dams, operated by one of his subsidiary companies — PacifiCorp — are negatively impacting the Indian tribes whose livelihoods depend on the Klamath River.

Hillman was in Omaha last year for the shareholders' meeting as well, and he promised himself he'd never go back. He was too discouraged, he said in a phone interview on Monday. He was sniffling because he'd caught a cold, presumably from camping outside of the Qwest Center all night, compounded, no doubt, by the surge of emotions he experienced standing up to the billionaire Goliath the following day.

Needless to say, Hillman changed his mind about going back to Omaha. And he's glad he did.

Standing in front of the microphone in an arena jammed with more people than he'd ever seen in one place, Hillman said he was so tired he felt like he was going pass out, but he managed to gather the strength to speak.

After introducing himself to Buffett in Karuk, Hillman switched to English: "As a European-American you are the visitor in our country," he said. "Will you not meet with the native people impacted by your fish killing dams? You say you want to address poverty and disease in the Third World. But you are creating those same Third World conditions right here in America. We want to meet and resolve the issue in a way that saves you money and saves our culture!"

"It was the most liberating thing I've done in my life," Hillman reflected Monday, "telling the richest human on the planet that he's a guest in this country."

Hillman then presented Buffett with a copy of the Restoration Agreement, a draft document written by the 26 stakeholders involved in the Klamath settlement talks, which was recently unveiled for public vetting after two years of closed-door negotiations, and which Buffett has not signed. Hillman capped it off by calling the Berkshire Hathaway CEO a son-of-a-bitch, but the billionaire didn't bat an eye since Hillman had switched back to Karuk.

Craig Tucker, Klamath campaign director for the Karuk Tribe, recalled on Monday that when Hillman spoke his voice never wavered. "I've never been so proud of the people I work with," he said via cell phone on his way home from Sacramento after returning from the Midwest.

Still, he said Buffett seemed unfazed by the small contingent of tribal members and fishermen who made the trip to Omaha to protest.

"[Buffett] gave lame answers that were evasive," Tucker said. "That guy owns so much stuff. ... These dams are nothing but a grain of sand on the beach for him. [Saturday] that grain of sand was a giant boulder."

Georgiana Myers, a Yurok tribal member who unfurled a banner while Hillman spoke that read, "Klamath Dams Equal Cultural Genocide," said on Monday from her home in Weitchpec that she went to Omaha to make her voice heard. An unlikely activist, the 24-year-old elementary school teacher felt that women of her generation had yet to be represented at an important event like the shareholders' meeting.

"It's not that we're against Warren Buffett," she said. "It was about educating his shareholders. As long as there's not business as usual on the Klamath River, there' won't be business as usual for Berkshire Hathaway."

The Karuk Tribe and Klamath Riverkeeper have set up a website to educate Berkshire Hathaway shareholders about the Klamath River: berkshireshareholders.com.

— Japhet Weeks

ArMack Maestros

Last Saturday night, the ArMack Orchestra hosted its 12th Annual Gala Dinner at the Arcata Community Center. When I told friends I was attending a "gala," they likened it to attending a ball, asking if I would wear taffeta and a corsage. Not quite. This gala's theme was "Humboldt on the Bayou," and for $30 a ticket the flier promised a three-course meal, a silent auction, and a concert — no dancing involved.

There were high school students involved, though, young men with bad haircuts dressed in tuxedos and young women in updos slathered in all black. I was told by an orchestra piano player, Molly, that each member had been assigned a job, whether it was busing tables, serving food or delivering plastic cups of glowing red punch (not spiked, of course). Perhaps the most charming part of the night was watching these teenagers walk aimlessly from table to table, uncertain whether to refill our drinks or just stare at us with confusion. This had to be their first introduction to the service industry, but fortunately, they had easy customers: parents, teachers, classmates and friends.

Admittedly, I balked at the idea of an elegant dinner in a gymnasium at first. My seat marked the three-point line on the basketball court, and the napkins matched the maroon mats lining the walls. However, volunteers had taken great pains to set each table with elegant details, like branches adorned with green lichens and glass candle holders filled with sand. Upon arriving, I was a little envious that the table next to mine still had a full plate of devilled eggs; ours had only two left. Not exactly $30 fare, but this affair wasn't about the money. It was about raising money. Apparently, any funds raised support orchestra functions, including a spring trip to London where they play in an international competition. Impressively, they won first place last year.

From Shaelyn Thomas, an Arcata High student, I learned that instead of hiring caterers, the parents cook. This is no small task, considering they had set up tables in every square inch of the room and people milled about elbow to elbow. Luckily, local businesses donated food; Cypress Grove, for example, donated the goat cheese that accompanied every appetizer plate. If I needed any more proof that Arcata is a community-driven town (and I didn't), Daisy Dalton, proud mother of an orchestra member, gave it to me. "There are parents volunteering tonight whose kids have been gone for ten years," she said, "and they're still volunteering." That's dedication.

After hearing the actual orchestra play, however, I understood the dedication a bit better. I'm not a classical music critic, but the flawless, deep sounds emanating from the stage shocked me. All those gawky servers had transformed into a soulful whole, a magical symphony of maestros. These kids could have been playing in the pit at Les Miserables, or on the soundtrack for the next Indiana Jones movie. They were that good. Perhaps Carol Jacobson, the orchestra director, deserves all the credit. While I never chatted with her, I did watch her lead the symphony to melodious success. Like the captain of a pirate ship, she barked out orders, but using only her body, her hands and her wand. With her sparkly sleeves jumping to the beat, she had the attention of every musician on that stage, a thundering presence to be admired.

While I will probably never get in the habit of eating on a basketball court, I could easily get in the habit of listening to the ArMack Orchestra's beautiful sound. Bring on the punch.

— Reagan Nail

TOP

Comments? Write a letter!