From the Sun vaults, December 10-16, 1969

"One of the things we remember on our land. We remember that our grandfathers paid for it--with their lives."--John Wooden Legs, Cheyenne

"They made us many promises, but they kept only one; they promised to take our land, and they did."--Red Cloud, Sioux

"The only good Indian is a dead Indian."--Phil Sheridan, U.S. general

Richard Oakes was one good Indian 40 years ago this week.

It was Day 10 of the American Indian occupation of Alcatraz and the "white" press was barred from touching shore on the hijacked key in December of 1969. So the Pacific Sun dispatched the only reporter in the country whose persuasions would not be withstood by even the most unruly of tribal insurgents--61-year-old assistant editor Alice Yarish. She brought groceries.

"Intrigued by the brash and courageous action of the American Indians who have taken possession of that abandoned fortress," wrote Yarish in her story, "Red Men on the Rock," "I felt impelled to go out there and see what kind of people would undertake such a David-Goliath thing."

The David-Goliath thing, of course, was the occupation of the island by a loose-knit band of American Indian college students and their families who issued a proclamation to the U.S. Secretary of the Interior offering to purchase the island for the sum of $24, some glass beads and bolts of cloth. "We know that land values have risen over the years," conceded the proclamation, "but the $1.24 per acre is greater than the 47 cents the white men are now paying the Indians for their land." The Indians, who'd sailed to Alcatraz Nov. 20 upon a charter called the Monte Cristo, promised to establish a college of Indian culture and history on the island and create a Bureau of Caucasian Affairs to guide the white man in religion, education and "life-ways" in order to help them "achieve our level of civilization." It was an irony-laden entreaty for the American government to deal honestly with the American Indian. "We seek peace," it concluded.

The veteran Pac Sun reporter had bribed a Sausalito sea dog to ferry her to the dock of the Rock; from there her fate would be left to the starving belligerents.

"What do you want?" demanded the dark Mohawk "built like a Green Bay Packer" who confronted her at port.

"I'm with the Pacific Sun and I brought groceries," Yarish barked.

"OK, come on."

Yarish's impressive gangplank welcoming committee was none other than Richard Oakes, leader of the occupation forces; the media dubbed him "chief" of the island.

Oakes, a 27-year-old father of six, was a student at San Francisco State and had organized nearly 100 like-minded Indian grads and undergrads from SFSU and UCLA to stage the uprising. Oakes told the Sun that their occupation goals were twofold: "Not only do we want this island, but we also hope our action will call attention to the injustice with which our people have always been treated. We are concerned with housing, education and jobs."

Public support was largely with the Indians, though some condemned the occupation on legal grounds. The Indians, however, championed their rights under an 1868 treaty that promised unused federal lands to the Indians. Alcatraz had been abandoned since the prison closed in 1963.

Oakes told Yarish he resented being called a "vanishing race"; the American Indian would not vanish--from America or from Alcatraz.

"We are here to stay," he said, "even if they send an army for us."

After Oakes made his departure to attend a "pow wow" with the group's five-member governing council, Yarish helped an Indian youth unload the groceries in the "kitchen"--a set of hibachis and bonfires surrounded by walls of cardboard boxes and blankets. She asked him what he thought of the warning the government issued over "the health and safety of the people on Alcatraz"--specifically the lack of food, the rundown buildings, exposed conditions and crumbling walls.

"That's funny," the youth sneered. "As bad as this may be, it's far better than most of us have ever had before."

However insincere the government's concern about safety may have been, it tragically proved prophetic. Less than a month later, as the occupation dragged on without government interference or negotiation (as part of a federal strategy to bore the Indians off the island), Oakes's 13-year-old stepdaughter Yvonne fell to her death down a dilapidated stairwell. Heartbroken over Yvonne, and disillusioned by tribal infighting, Oakes abandoned Alcatraz early in 1970. Yarish's parting wish to him that the "tribes would be united" and the "beautiful island [would one day be their own" would not be realized.

A year later, the occupation numbers had dwindled dramatically and in June of 1971, federal agents moved in and removed the 11 adults and four children still holding out on the island.

Oakes, meanwhile, had retreated to family and student life--yet remained a strong voice for American Indian dignity and justice. Then on a rainy September day in 1972, Oakes was shot and killed by a man named Michael Morgan during an altercation over Morgan's treatment of Indian youths. Morgan was cleared of all charges the following year by a Santa Rosa Superior Court jury.

In 1998, San Francisco State cut the ribbon on its Richard Oakes Multicultural Center, dedicating the space to the Mohawk son in honor of his "sacrifices in promoting higher education, social justice and human rights."

The Oakes Center resides on a site that was for centuries home to American Indians.

Share your Alcatraz memories with Jason at jwalsh@pacificsun.com.

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