This 2017 file photo shows Arch Canyon in Bears Ears National Monument in Utah. In 1923, two Ute men escaped from a prison near Blanding, Utah, into the surrounding desert region known today as Bears Ears National Monument. In retaliation, 80 members of Anikanuche were interned in a camp and eventually forced to vacate their land and discontinue their traditional hunting. (Francisco Jolces/Salt Lake Tribune, via AP, File)
110 years ago, my Ute ancestors were forced to live inside a barbed wire camp in Blanding, a small town in southeastern Utah.
For six weeks, nearly 80 people were kept in cages and slept in tents and makeshift huts. Food was meager and the prisoners sometimes threw food over the fence.
Similar to the infamous Japanese-American POW camps during World War II, the only crime my relatives committed was belonging to a group considered a threat by the white majority. There was no due process for either Japanese Americans or the Utes.
But while there are memorials to victims at Japanese American internment camps, including Camp Topaz near Delta, Utah, there are no plaques or interpretive displays in Blanding that acknowledge the suffering endured by my ancestors.
In fact, the events that led to their imprisonment are better known by misleading names such as “Posey’s War” and “The Last Indian Uprising.” My ancestor, William Posey, was a member of the Anikanuche Band, which continued traditional hunting in the vast Canyonlands and Bears Ears region until the 1920s, long after many other Native Americans were forced onto reservations. He was the leader of
Two Ute men were convicted of attacking a sheepherders’ camp on March 19, 1923. After an altercation with the San Juan County sheriff, the men fled and returned to their families.
They fled across Comb Ridge into what is now Bears Ears National Monument. Fifty armed white settlers pursued the Utes on horses and Model T Fords. County commissioners also requested a plane loaded with World War I-era bombs to be used in pursuit. Before the plane arrived, police found the family, forced them at gunpoint into a truck and drove them to a barbed wire fence in Blanding.
I tell this story because the incarceration of the Utes 101 years ago had devastating consequences for my community, and healing is still needed today.
Two Ute men, including Posey, were killed. Ute children were among those sent to Indian boarding schools, separating families and disrupting traditional teachings. As a condition of release, prisoners in the camps were required to sign allotment papers for small parcels of land relinquishing ownership of the vast Ute reservation, which had once been proposed to cover most of San Juan County.
Although these events were tragic, they were not “wars” or “rebellions.” Like the Diné Long Walk of 1864 and his Trail of Tears that began in the 1830s, my Anikanuche ancestors were exposed to brutal violence by settlers in Utah, but it was not until his 2nd It bore no resemblance to a war fought between the armies of two nations.
Despite these injustices, our tribe continues what we call a “legacy of resilience,” and last year the Ute Mountain Ute community of White Mesa became the first on our side. I started telling the story.
I was selected to oversee the “100 Years of Silence” project and have been working with elders, historians and artists to facilitate healing. We have hosted many meetings to hear members of our community talk about this history. Works created by seven local artists are on display at the Leonardo Museum of Creation and Innovation in Salt Lake City through May 28. On March 23, we hosted a public open house for the project with presentations by 18 Ute members.
Throughout the process, I have been inspired by the courage and wisdom of our community. Our collective efforts aim to end a century of silence and usher in an era of recognition and empowerment for all walks of life.
As last month marked 101 years since Anikanuche’s incarceration, we hope that Utahns will begin to recognize the events of 1923. We ask that these terrible weeks not be referred to as the “Posey War.” This term is based on misinformation that spread as the case progressed. The 100 Years of Silence Project is currently seeking input from the White Mesa community to rename this series of tragic events.
Perhaps one day a memorial may be erected at the site of the concentration camp, near the historic bank building that still stands in Blanding. As Ute scholar Forrest S. Kutch reminded us on Remembrance Day, healing cannot occur until the truth is known and accepted.
Sean Ketchum Jr. is a contributor to Writers on the Range, writersontherange.org, an independent nonprofit organization dedicated to fostering conversations about the West. He directed the “100 Years of Silence” project and is also a member of the Ute Tribe.
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