Honoring the Indigenous Heritage of the Farm
Delving into the Indigenous history of East Fork’s farmland was a deep dive into various historical accounts and sources – some of which, as we discovered, have been misinterpreted or came from informants with a limited understanding to begin with.
Takilma, the town where our farm is located, is said to be named for the Takelma tribe who lived on the site. However, researchers dispute the accuracy of this common local characterization.
Before we re-visit the history of the land and its peoples, though, we would like to begin with acknowledgement.
We acknowledge that the land where our farm is located rests on the traditional sites of tribes in the Illinois and Rogue River valleys who made their homes for thousands of years in the area that is now known as Josephine County. The descendants of these ancestors continue to live and thrive in the region, despite the crimes of colonization.
We also acknowledge – and condemn – the systemic American policies of genocide, dispossession, forced relocation, and assimilation that still impact Indigenous families today. We respect and honor the work of Indigenous and Native Nations, leaders, and communities in Oregon and beyond.
Colonist historic literature imposed onto local tribes names such as Deer Creek, Sucker Creek, and Althouse Creek “Indians”. However, transcribed names of the people included the Gusladada, Kuus-tlaa-tunuu, Gusthlantun (Ku’thlántun), K’vms Lhan Dee-ni’, and Haw-quo-e-hav-took (Chasta / Shasta).
The belief that the Illinois Valley was Takelma territory may come from misinterpretations of accounts from the ethnologist Edward Sapir, who reported that Takelma tribal territory extended from the south bank of the Rogue River, “perhaps as far west as Illinois River (Sapir 1907:251-252).”
However, Sapir relied primarily on the accounts of Mrs. Frances Johnson, a Takelma woman who related that the Takelma village of Salwaxk’an (Sal-wa-qa) was located at the confluence of the Applegate and Rogue rivers. Johnson also reported visiting a village named Talsalsan to buy fish, but listeners may have misinterpreted her words to imply that this village was Takelma. In examining Johnson’s story, anthropologist Dennis Gray concludes, “...the Takelma designated a village in the upper Illinois Valley as Tul-sul-sun, but it was not a Takelma settlement (Gray 1987:23).”
Local historian and archaeologist Justin Rohde has done a thorough analysis of these accounts and believes that this is the main point of confusion over Takelma tribal boundaries, as the distance between Johnson’s Salwaxk’an and the Illinois Valley is less than fifteen miles. He notes that the name “Takelma” was first proposed in the late 1800’s, and that Athapaskan and Takelma people may have been conflated.
Rohde states, “The Takelma were supposedly the only people here, yet I have never found actual evidence for Takelma occupation in the Illinois Valley… this is the result of settler fantasy, which dominates the region's history.”
Rohde’s research sources paint a picture of related tribal groups throughout the region:
"At the time of contact with Euro-Americans, Athapaskan speaking people inhabited the coastal areas of northern California and southwestern Oregon, as well as inland territory along the main stem of the Rogue River and its principal tributaries, the Illinois River, the Applegate River, and Galice Creek. The southern Oregon Athapaskan language is related to the Na-Dene linguist family” (Atwood and Gray 1996:27).
Near the time of contact in the Upper Illinois Valley, people called the Gusladada spoke a dialect of the Galice-Applegate language of Athapaskan (Jacobs n.d., Notebook 128).
According to ethnographer Melville Jacobs (n.d.) and Waterman (1921), Gusladada refers to the Athapaskan name for the people of the Illinois Valley, which means “lots of camas people”. It was said that before mining and agricultural practices radically altered the land, camas grew prolifically in the open meadows, alluvial floodplains, and prairies.
During interviews with tribal consultants and a review of relevant sources, Deur (2008) found another Athapaskan place name for the Illinois Valley: Gusthlantun (Ku’thlántun), meaning “lots of camas place… which appears to be a phonetic variant of Gu-sla-dada, and is said to translate literally as ‘camas’ [gus] ‘lots of’ [thlan] ‘place’ [tun]” (Deur 2008:40).
However, linguist Loren Bommelyn of the Tolowa Dee-ni’ Nation questioned the name Gu-sla-dada and noted it may be similar in meaning to K’vms Lhan Dee-ni’: K’vms – “camas”, Lhan – “a lot/ much”, and Dee-ni’ – “The-people-of”, likely related to the village of K’vms-lhan-dvn (L. Bommelyn, personal communication 03/31/15). Deur notes that English place names for the Upper Illinois Valley included “valley of the blue waters”, and “place with lots of camas” (2008:40). Harrington (1981:Reel 28) wrote that the Kuus-tlaa-tunuu language was the Illinois Valley Indian, meaning “lots of camas [kuus] place and tribe."
Sometime before 1830, a war reportedly broke out between the Illinois River people on one side and the Applegate and Shasta on the other, which eventually led to the defeat of the Illinois River groups.
"A little later on those who had gotten away came down to Galice Creek. There they lived. Later on both sides (i.e. the Illinois survivors and the Galice) began to intermarry there. They got to be just like one people (Jacobs n.d., Notebook 5:23)."
Rohde also notes, “After the Athapaskans were forced out of the Illinois Valley, [the region’s population] was dominated by Shasta.”
He summarizes, “The majority of all Takelma villages [in historical accounts] are given by Takelma speakers in the Athapaskan language. Takelma, Shasta, and Athapaskan groups are still part of the same cultural group, the Southern Northwest Coast Cultural Area, and they each speak multiple languages.”
Part of the harms of colonization is the erasure of Indigenous history, and its replacement with accounts from an outsider perspective that are riddled with misunderstandings and errors. We must examine these accounts with a critical eye, and always accede to Indigenous communities’ knowledge of their histories and cultures.
Euro-American invasion and settlement of the Illinois Valley began by the 1830’s, as the gold rush began and the logging industry developed. The mid-1850’s saw devastating ethnic cleansing campaigns by the invaders in the region.
By the end of 1856, the traditional residents of the Rogue and Illinois River valleys were forcibly removed from the land and relocated to the Siletz and Grande Ronde reservations on the central Oregon coast. Government agents forced hundreds of native people to march more than two hundred miles across rough terrain during harsh winter conditions, and many did not survive the journey. These crimes imparted devastation and intergenerational trauma upon all of these families and communities.
The Siletz Reservation population included neighboring Athapaskan, Chasta, and Takelma people, as well as tribes from even farther away, such as the Coos and Tillamook. Likewise, the Grande Ronde Reservation mingled the Umpqua, Southern Kalapuya, Rogue River and Chasta peoples.
In 1902, the Grants Pass Courier newspaper quoted the founder of Takilma, a Colonel Draper, as saying, “I have asked many people what was the name of the Indian tribe that formerly lived in the neighborhood of the Illinois and Rogue rivers, but no one that I ever asked was able to answer the question. The best that could be done was to call them the ‘Rogue River Indians’” (Grants Pass Courier, 19 June 1902).
The attempted eradication of Native peoples and the continued erasure of their history is an American atrocity. However, it has not succeeded – due solely to the resistance, resilience, resourcefulness, intelligence, and spirit of the Indigenous peoples.
Descendents of the Illinois River Valley tribes, including the Takelma, continue to reside on or near the Siletz and Grand Ronde reservations. After the US Congress shamefully stripped away Siletz legal recognition in 1954, the Confederated Tribe of Siletz Indians legally fought the US government for decades to successfully regain federal recognition as a Tribe in 1977. Similarly, the Confederated Tribes of the Grand Ronde Community of Oregon won their legal fight for federal restoration in 1988.
And these indigenous cultures continue to reclaim and painstakingly restore their places on the land and their practices, including traditional ceremonies.
For example, Taowhywee (Agnes Baker Pilgrim), who counted Siletz, Takelma, and Coos ancestry in her heritage, was instrumental in bringing back the Salmon Ceremony to Southern Oregon for the first time in more than 140 years. “Grandma Aggie” helped to return the Salmon Ceremony to the region in 1994, welcoming and giving thanks for the returning salmon on the Kanaka Flats of the Applegate River. In 2007, the ceremony was moved to its traditional location, taking place annually at the Tilomikh (Powerhouse Falls) on the Rogue River near Gold Hill, Oregon.
Before she passed away in 2019 at the age of 95, Grandma Aggie was one of the oldest members of the International Council of the 13 Indigenous Grandmothers. The Council recounts her enormous impact and contributions:
Grandmother Aggie was a dedicated warrior grandmother for many causes. She was a “voice for the voiceless” – animals, plants, and the water. She had many major accomplishments in the efforts and causes she pursued. To name a few, she led the successful removal and clean up of all the dams on the Rogue River by 2012, and in 1994 she revived the Siletz tribal sacred Salmon Ceremony. Her community work included serving as an advisor to a medical doctor’s association and creating opportunities for the young tribal members to learn about their culture.
Grandmother Aggie’s lineage and work is carried on by her daughter Nadine Martin, as well as her five generations of grandchildren.
Though the day after Thanksgiving is designated as Native American Heritage Day, and November as American Indian Heritage Month, these titles are only a gesture. We, as a country, must take substantive, systemic, and lasting actions towards reparative justice for Indigenous communities. We must transform our society: how we interact with the land and its longstanding stewards, who are not separable from one another.
Both as individuals and as a small farm team, we do not have easy answers to best accomplish this work. But we know that it will most certainly require us to listen to the needs of Indigenous communities and follow their leadership.
We at East Fork recognize that we are a temporary steward of these lands. We see and feel and acknowledge the uneasiness of land ownership in America today. We commit to making ongoing efforts to educate ourselves about and center Indigenous knowledge, creativity, health, and resilience in our work and lives. And we are open to the transformative possibilities of working with the traditional inhabitants of the land to transform our relationship to it and to Native stewardship.
You can support the work of the following Oregon, National, and International Indigenous organizations by donating here:
Agnes Pilgrim Legacy Fund (Southern Oregon)
Native American Youth and Family Center (Oregon)
Native American Rehabilitation Association (Oregon)
Potlatch Fund (Pacific Northwest)
First Nations Development Institute (National)
Native American Rights Fund (National)
International Council of the 13 Indigenous Grandmothers (International)
Thank you to our neighbors Justin Rohde and Greg Walter for generously sharing their historical knowledge, analyses, and resources; and to Spirit Weavers Gathering for sharing the information about Grandmother Aggie and the Salmon Ceremony.
