RED MESA
Navajo weaving from the 1930's
Two years after being discharged from the regular army in '73, I was called up for Ready Reserve training at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. I, and seven others like me, was temporarily attached to a National Guard unit from Santa Monica, California, for their annual two weeks of training. It was an odd outfit to say the least. For example, four or five of them concealed shoulder-length hair under wigs, which was permitted at the time. Joining the National Guard at that time guaranteed that you wouldn't be deployed to Vietnam, and for many such an enlistment was a calculated risk against that possibility by being drafted into the Regular Army.
The most out of place among the eight of us misfits among misfits was a large American Indian, who reported in his Class A's. If I recall, he wore a RVN ribbon, among others. His most striking feature was his nose---it was enormous. His demeanor was stolid and intimidating.
I learned that day how a friendly word can affect a person when I asked him if he was Navajo. His face brightened like the Sun rising over the mesa.
