The History and Culture of the Spirit Lake Dakota
Continued from DLJ Dec. 16, page 5
My sister left during the night to follow her mother to the camp after her mother visited her. My mother continued to follow the Sioux with my sister. Later my sister married M. Augustin Lafreniere. I was raised and married in Walhalla [ND).
At age of 7, while playing I was kicked by a horse. All thought me dead except old man, Antoine Azure, who would not let them bury me for my body was still warm; the coffin was ready. He said, “Wait until his body stiffens.” The next morning, I opened my eyes.
Of the 14 children that were raised by the Half-breeds, I’m the only one still living. Some lived as far as White Horse Valley. John Merrick’s father was a white man; John Morin’s father was a white man named John Larive or Larrive. Gadwa was brought up by Joseph Delorme; his father was a white man; he did not know his name.
I married at age of 23 to Julienne DuBois. Julienne was the wife of Joe Pilon, the father of the present Joe Pilon (1952). When Mr. Joe Pilon, the father, was sick, I used to visit him for we were great friends. Sometimes to tease him, I would say, “When are you going to die, I want to marry your wife.” He would answer, “When I am dead, you may marry her.” But profoundly, he did not like this for he was jealous. Four months later he did die, but I thought no more of the matter. (but, four months after his death, the fact is I did marry her).
Some time after, John Dess took charge of the little boy who was 9 years old. After 18 years living alone with his father-in-law (?) they needed a house-keeper. After a month, seeing her so good I thought, why not marry her? For fun I told her, “Will you marry me?” She too, thought I was joking. After serious thought, one Sunday, I told her prepare yourself, we are going to get married. She did prepare, but only to attend Mass two miles from the house. Arriving at the village, I went to Father Louis Bonin, former Chaplain of the Grey Nuns, St. Michael, N. Dak, and told him “Father, I want to marry.” “With whom?” “With Julienne, Mrs. Pilon, the young widow.” Father asked, “when?” “Right away.”, but it is Advent. It matters not, I wish it done and off my mind. Father answered, “All right, after Mass.” Before Mass, Father Boin asked Mrs. Pilon if she wanted to marry. “No, I do not believe him, he wants to laugh at me.” Father listened and encouraged her and assured her that the young man was serious. “Then, if it is true and he really wants me I’ll marry him.” Therefore, after Mass we were married—no feasting—her father had dinner with us and that was all. We lived 58 years together, then she died. We had eleven children, 5 died in infancy, 6 living. Helen married Bob Cavanaugh, Max married Rose Morin, Fred married Angeline Morin, Francis married Algena St. Clair, Ambrose married Francis Lohnes and Annie Jane married Bill Robideau.
Father Genin baptized me before the war (Minnesota Massacre 1862) with 18 others. After I was married, I wanted to look for my parents. I went to Father Genin at Bath Gates near Pembina. I told him what happened at Yellow Medicine when he was a young Priest. “I Baptized 18 children.” I told him how I had been separated from my parents. I asked him if he remembered Frank Jetty. “No” he answered, I remember only Mr. Brown because I stayed there. “I desire very much to see my parents. I had a sister, etc.” Father looked at his map, then said, “Go to Brown’s Valley, perhaps the reservation was there, but it is called Brown’s Valley because they were first to arrive there.” I had never been on a train. The Priest said, “I will give you a paper to give to the conductor and I will pray for you.” The train arrived at Grand Forks during a heavy storm. The conductor paid for lunch for me. I changed trains and the conductor of the first train gave Father Genin’s paper to the conductor of this train. I continued to travel up to Morris, Minnesota. The next day we continued to Brown’s Valley. Once there, I knew no one. Hearing someone call “Joe Brown” I took to his wagon. Arriving here, I asked to remain overnight. But knowing no one, I feared and could not sleep for I had on me $160.00. I arrived here Christmas eve.
The next morning at 6 a.m. I heard some one at the stove—I arose. Here was a man who looked at me often. He spoke French and English. He asked me my name. “Jette” I answered. Would you be the son of Francois Jette who lives not far from here? I told him my whole story. “That’s it” he said the man, “He is your father.” He passed here yesterday morning. He believes you died after your accident at the age of seven. (at that time I was 37 years old). Looking at you, I found you resembled Francois Jette., I am Joe Brown. Your sister, Josephine still lives and is twenty miles from here. Your mother also, is not far from here.
After breakfast we left for Sisseton Agency (he accepted no pay). Here some people talked French. All who saw me said I resembled my father. Mr. Faribeau told me that, I learned my sister married A. LaFreniere and lived about 20 miles from the Agency. I camped there that night. Some relatives came to see me, Grandfather, uncles and cousins. I bought a box of cigars to treat them all. The following afternoon, I was invited to a big feast. There again met other relatives—again we spent a pleasant evening.
Early the next morning I embarked with a man who knew my sister. On the way, we saw a wagon at a distance. The driver recognized my brother-in-law’s horses. An Indian had gone to tell my mother where I was. My mother and sister were on their way to meet me but took another road. We met that evening at 9 P.M. at my sister’s home where I passed the day. My mother and sister did not recognize me at first. I stayed two months with them. My mother married another Indian. She told me my father was at Watson, Minn. My mother saw my father three years after the massacre. She refused to take him back because it was too dangerous to be with a White man. She preferred an Indian. My father, seeing that she was happy went his way and married a cousin of my mother.
Leaving my mother I went to find my father, 80 miles from there by train. As a man was passing my father’s house, I embarked with him. Arriving there my father was at the barn door. The man to whom I had told my story said to my father, “I am bringing you your son that you lost so long ago during the war time. “ My little boy!” It is a long time that he is dead.” My father and I talked a long time. My father married three times—now he had three other sons. The third wife was almost White. The second Indian wife left him. At Watson, I had three half brothers and two half sisters. From my own mother, I had a half-brother, Moses Williams, a pure Indian.
I came to live here at St. Michael’s, N. Dak. In 1901 to stay here always. My wife died in the fall of 1941.
This is the end of Frank Jetty Junior’s story.
Author’s Note: It has been said that Father Belcourt had started this Sisterhood for Indian girls but was dissolved some years later. Are these the real Facts? We know not.
Frank is telling how the Dakota fled Minnesota. First going to Devils Lake (camping at Sweetwater Lake and Mission Bay area. Moving on, he doesn’t say a word about the Sibley 1863 expedition fighting the Dakota at the battles of Stony Lake, Buffalo Lake, and Big Mound. Then moving southwest to Bismarck, where Frank tells in detail how the Dakota, (now joined with the Yanktonai and Lakota), escape across the Missouri River. The next step in the journey was traveling to the Turtle Mountain, then moving east to Pleasant Lake (northeast Benson County) moving on to Pembina to hunt buffalo. Meeting the Metis (May-tee) Buffalo hunters and where Josephine and Frank are adopted by them.
We must understand that he was only 7-8 years old. Perhaps he learned the details later listening to others. In any case we have a detailed account of the plight of the Dakota. It is better than nothing. Dakota Goodhouse, who teaches at United Tribes Technical College in Bismarck, has collected from the Yanktonai and Lakota the details of the crossing the Missouri River. The warriors stood on the bluff where Mary College now stands and egged Sibley to continue the battle. His report states that General Sibley realized that he would have to return to Minnesota before the winter. The Seven Fires Warriors say Sibley chickened out, turned around and fled.
Goodhouse, Dakota Oceti Sakowin; History and Culture by First Scout, Blogspot.com Mr. Goodhouse has written about Apple Creek January 31, 2013, and on November 17, 2014. I urge anyone interested in this area of Dakota culture to seek this blog.
