– Bastiaan “Bart” M. Drees, July 28, 2016
My family immigrated to Dallas, Texas in 1959. Almost immediately after arriving, my parents bought a 1959 Chevrolet station wagon. In addition, my mom took my brother, Herman, and me, to Sears and bought us blue jeans with long legs needing to be rolled up into cuffs, plaid shirts, and Ked’s high-top tennis shoes. We were instant Americans! We spent weekends driving the countryside looking for cowboys or horseback riders. However, we rarely spotted any.
My dad moved us to Texas so he could take a job at Bell Helicopter company in Arlington. Every summer, the company shut down for a few weeks during the first part of July. All employees, and many more Americans, took vacation after July 4 during those years. My parents decided to take advantage of the car and those weeks of vacation by planning and taking a road trip every summe.
One of our first trips to the Colorado Rocky Mountains took us through Oklahoma where we stopped and spent some time seeing a rodeo that featured Indian dancers. I was extremely impressed and taken by the native American’s dress, dances, and history – and instantly became a life-long Indian fan! After returning home from our vacation, I was determined to play Indian. With help from my Mom, I fashioned a complete outfit that included a loin cloth, cape, wig, face paints, feathered head band, necklaces, and other articles using instructions and illustrations from W. B. Hunt*. I began to dance, singing, “Heya, heya, heya, heya.”
Whenever I played cowboys and Indians with neighborhood kids, I was always the Indian. Soon, my influence began to spread. My brother; sister; my sister’s girlfriend, Mary Cronkheit; and my good buddy, Mike Flanery, all joined my “tribe” and dressed up. I suggested to our neighborhood club, “Fort Drees”, that we earn some money by putting on an Indian dance for all of our neighbors and charge admission.
On one summer night, we did just that. We earned $5 in admission charges, and I played the “star” Indian, dancing proudly in my loin cloth in front of all our neighbors singing, “Heya, heya, heya, heya.”
Thinking back on all this now, I realize I should have been less of an extrovert and avoided publically humiliating myself. However, I now understand that this was one of the first instances where I “exposed” myself in public doing what my passions urged me to do. I am now 64 years old and have spent my 33-year career with the Texas A&M University Extension Service conducting educational programs for audiences around the state and parts of the world. Getting up in front of perfect strangers and giving talks about insects, or singing “Long Tall Texan” at the top of my lungs, came easier because I had been “battle hardened” as a young boy doing Indian dances in my loin cloth, singing, “Heya, heya, heya, heya.”
*Hunt, W. B. 1954. The Golden Book of Indian Crafts and Lore. Golden Press, New York. 112 pages.
