AIM
THE BEGINNING

By Robert Robideau

I joined the North West regional chapter of the American Indian Movement in the fall of 1973. I jumped the Gray Dog in Vancouver, Washington. I hated the bus, but the short three hour ride helped me to relax on the way up to Seattle. I thought back to seeing my cousins Jim Robideau and Leonard Peltier at Crow Dog’s Sun dancing late in the summer. It had been a real surprise to see them in the arbor dancing and I had been glad at the time to be with family. They would put me up at their house long enough to get my finances together, then I would head out to other places. But things were not going to work out the way I had thought. While there word came that Pedro Bissonette had been murdered by the Pine Ridge BIA police. Leonard and Jim both asked me along when they began getting ready to head to South Dakota. Jim Robideau, had been with members of North West AIM at Custer and Wounded Knee and Leonard Peltier, had joined AIM while in Wisconsin just before the Trail of Broken Treaties caravan to Washington, D.C. After the Trail of Broken Treaties he went to jail for allegedly assaulting an off-duty police man, he was acquitted 5 years later when the policemen’s girlfriend testified how her boyfriend had lied about the incident to jail Leonard whom he knew was a member of AIM.

Earlier in the year Pedro and other members of OSCRO had met with the American Indian Movement to discuss the political abuses of Dick Wilson and the physical force being used by his goons to intimidate and place fear amongst the traditional Oglala people. They were trying to impeach Richard Wilson, the tribal chairman, who amid charges of nepotism and vote buying had failed to hold public council meetings and done nothing to stop the ongoing uranium leases for white companies on the reservation land.

Anti-AIM Wilson used government funds to create a private police force dubbed the “goon squad” by many Oglalas because of its brutal tactics. The special group appropriated the acronym GOON calling themselves, “Guardians of the Oglala Nations.” Drive-by shootings became common and scores of Oglalas had been killed from 1973 to 1976.

On February 27, 1973, after attempts to impeach Dicky Wilson had failed, a meeting lead AIM to help the Oglala people to take and occupy the historic site of the massacre at Wounded Knee was decided as the best vehicle to get national/international attention focused on the corruptions with Wilson’s administration and its support by President Nixon.

All chapters of the AIM were being asked to "meet and assemble in Rapid City, South Dakota, before going on to Pine Ridge to join others at Pedro’s funeral.

After an hour of talking, Jim Robideau hung the phone up and gave those in the house the information, after that everyone came alive with a frenzy of activity. Preparations for the trip to South Dakota began in earnest. Leonard Peltier got back on the phone to call other members and contacts to raise funds.

The following mourning Jim, Leonard and I took a trip to Salem, Oregon, to met with a local activist and support group that had, over the phone, committed to donating funds and other resources to us. As we pulled up and parked in the back of a large white house a black man stepped out the door, greeted us with a hand wave as we stopped and climbed out. We stayed only long enough to pick up their contributions, guns and money, then got back on the road.
We arrived back to Seattle the same day, the following morning a 5 car caravan was ready to hit the road. With the full group assembled in the house, a general discussion of security procedures for different road situations were discussed and agreed to. With Jim and I in the lead car we left that evening. The only time we stopped was to take gas, food and necessities, otherwise we kept moving until we reached Rapid City.

We arrived on the 21 of October and were lead by local AIM to the Lakota Homes Community Center where we were put up in a dormitory for the night.

The following mourning we loaded ourselves back into the cars and joined other cars forming a long procession on the road to Pine Ridge. Despite the anger and eagerness in the air to tangle with the BIA police we passed them at each juncture of the road toward Pine Ridge village without incident.

When we arrived on the land where Pedro’s wake was being held we placed our men and women with the other existing security . We were informed that it would be four days of mourning, so we began a roving patrol to secure the area from anticipated problems with Wilson´s goons.
The group and the activities that were unfolding around us was all a totally new experience for me, I had never been in a situation where I didn't know who the hostiles were that we had been given the responsibility to defend the funeral from; and the idea of defending a funeral seemed absurd and beyond my imagination. Anyone that had the thought of attacking one had to be obscene and fool hardy in this instance. But sure enough the following night security caught some young Oglala man that the locals designated as, "goon". I couldn't believe it. Billy Charging, a friend of Manny Wilson, Dick Wilsons son, had attempted to come into the wake while drunk. He was taken to the main house and questioned by WKLD\OC lawyer, Mark Lane. Billy Charging confessed that he had taken a $50 bribe to come into the funeral and cause an incident that would give the police an excuse to come in. He was released after he wrote a confession and I knew in that moment that things were very serious.

With the consent of the AIM leadership and local Oglalas the second pair of goons that were caught the following day on the funeral grounds, were taken out and down the road someplace where they got their asses kicked. Leonard, Jim and Ron Buffalo were spotted by two BIA reservation policemen as they left the two goons laying on the ground beside their car. The police attempted to stop them and a short gun fight ensued. The BIA police fell back as soon as they realized that they were receiving gun fire. An exchange of gun fire ensued as they chased Leonard’s yellow car down the road. It was reported later that one policeman had been wounded by flying glass. Leonard, Jim and Ron escaped without a scratch.

Upon their return we were told to beef up security and it wasn't long after we had added more men to security that the BIA police began assembling on highway 18 in front of the drive way leading onto the land. Although we fully expected them to come in, it quickly became apparent that they were not going to attempt it. I was very surprised, in all my experience with the police they had always went in to arrest their men.

My experience in the city told me to expect a confrontation, but they did the unexpected, by simply setting in their patrol cars and not making an overt move toward us. They stood by their cars with rifles in hand and watched as we ourselves in secure areas faced watching them. We learned that Dick Wilson was under pressure from the U.S. Government not to start an incident, the rumor was they feared that another Wounded Knee type action could be sparked here if they attempted to move against people at the funeral.

My experience in the city told me to expect more then the sit and wait stand off confrontation, but they did the unexpected, they sat in their patrol cars not making an overt move toward us. They stood around by their cars with rifles in hand and watched as we too stood our ground facing them openly armed. We learned that Dick Wilson was under pressure from the U.S. Government not to start an incident, there were fears that another Wounded Knee type action could be sparked.

"About four hundred mourners filed past Pedro Bissonette's casket as it lay in a tepee in front of his mother's home, three miles north of Pine Ridge. The government had attempted to get a court order barring AIM leaders from the funeral, but a federal judge denied the request. At the Roman Catholic funeral mass, Pedro's mother, Suzie Bissonette sat next to Russell Means and his brothers, Ted, Dale, and Bill. Dennis Banks had been barred from the reservation by Delmar Eastman, special officer in charge of the BIA police, who said that he would arrest Banks on sight if he attempted to enter the Pine Ridge reservation. The funeral procession detoured to the edge of the reservation, so that Banks could view Pedro's body. He sat beside the opened casket, gazing at Pedro's face for a short time before the procession continued.

At the conclusion of the funeral, Leonard, who not want to leave his car behind because of all the repair work he said he had put in to it, was finally persuaded to leave it when it finally became clear to him that the police were waiting to bounce on it if it should be seen exiting the funeral grounds. We knew that the police had identified it after the running gun fight with them, and would be waiting to arrest anyone that would have been stupid enough to drive it off the property . We were given an old Chevy with busted out windows to ride back to Rapid City in. We froze our asses off on the trip back to Rapid City. The BIA police followed the long caravan of cars all the way off the reservation, but did not attempt to stop one car. The South Dakota State Police picked up the caravan after we crossed over the Pine Ridge boarder at Oeirichs and followed us from a distance as we headed north on Highway 79 into Rapid City.

We pulled up to the WKLD\OC on Allen Street and parked in front. Leonard, Jim Robideau and I stepped out of the car and took the few stepped that brought us through the front door, that lead up the stairs to the second floor WKLD/OC office. We stood for a moment just inside, than Leonard told me to wait as Jim and he headed for a door across the room and disappeared. We had stopped at the law office to have a closed meeting with Russell Means, Dennis Banks and a few others. The subject was: What to do about the murder of Pedro Bissonette.
While the meeting went on, I sat down in an over stuffed easy chair next to the main door. Lite up a smoke, laid back an observed the coming and goings of white and Indian people.
I hadn't asked about the meeting, we operated on a need-to-know only bases; nor did I have an idea of what it was about. All I knew is that Leonard and Jim had an idea and plan and had asked to have the meeting to discuss it with the leaders of the American Indian Movement.

As I sat observing the rooms' activities, my thoughts traveled back to Oregon, and the beginning events that had unfolded with Nacho Wolf soldier and his wife Lily. I had come full circle and I didn't have an idea what might happen next in my life. These events had swept me up and taken over my destiny. But I was feeling comfortable with the activities and events that had already occurred, it was already feeling homey, and I was more than willing to go further with where ever the circumstances of the time took me. A new sense of purpose, meaning, and a feeling of wholeness began to emerge in me that was not there before.

Leonard came out and told me that we would be staying over night at the "AIM house"; and if I wanted, I could walk over to it with two friends of his. Jim and he were not finished with their meeting and would walk over after they were finished. Monty, who had came in shortly after I had settled in the chair was standing in looking on when I motioned him over as I got up, indicating we were following the two ladies who had walked over after materializing from some back room. Lorelei DeCora, of the Ho-Chunk (or Winnebago) tribe, who had been in charge of the clinic in Wounded Knee, and Andria Sky Kingman, of the Minneconjou Lakota (Cheyenne River) tribe who also had been in Wounded Knee.

The two AIM women walked Monty, a boy of seventeen, and I to the AIM house that was about ten blocks away in a residential area. It was a two story house in a quite neighborhood just off of Mount Rushmore Highway on Fairview Street. Monte, a skin from the Havasupai tribe living in the Grand Canyon in Arizona, and I were invited to relax in the living room. The ladies disappeared into the kitchen to brew coffee. It was late in the evening, and I was still drinking coffee, when Leonard and Jim finally walked through the door with big smiles glued to their faces. "How is it going cuz." I shock my head in acknowledgment of the situation. “We'll stay here tonight and move to a new location tomorrow." Jim said, in a serious business manner, than quickly followed Leonard into the kitchen.

The next day, the 26 of October, we moved to the north side of Rapid City to, Evelyn Bordeaux's house. A ranch style with a full basement located in a residential neighborhood. The main body of Northwest AIM had been kept apart from us. They were put at the Lakota Homes community center, a government getto Indian project, typical of the time. We had spent our first night in Rapid City there before joining the caravan that had taken us to Pedro‘s funeral. The Rest of our group were not being allowed to know our location. Richard who knew that something was a-foot attempted to argue to stay, but was handed the responsibility of taking the group back to Seattle, then hustle up more guns and ammunition and bring the stuff back to us along with other AIM members who were in Portland, Oregon.

We didn't ask any questions, we didn't need to because we knew that there would be a proper time for being apprised of our action. We waited patently for weeks before peaces of the plan of our targeted action began to unfold. It became more clear that my cousins had chosen us over others to do some dangerous undercover operation on the Pine Ridge reservation. So far, four of us, Monty, Leonard, Jim and I had arraigned our sleeping areas in Evelyn’s' basement. John and Mike, who were also from the Northwest showed up a week after we had taken up residence in Evelyn’s basement. Monty and I had remained during that full time, while Leonard and Jim remained free to move about making the critical arrangements.

Four of us remained in the basement of Evelyn’s for four weeks, not coming out at all, than toward the end of November during a snow storm it was decided that it was time we move to Pine Ridge to set up our operation. It was at this point that we were told what our objective was. The murder of Pedro Bissonette had inflamed many Oglala people, who now looked toward the American Indian Movement to stop the stepped up beatings and killings by Wilson’s' goons and supporters. AIM leadership had agreed, that it was time to take another direction in the struggle to overcome the continued political motivated killings of Oglala people on Pine Ridge and it seemed apparent that there was only one way to accomplish it. Get rid of the villain. Our group had volunteered to carry this objective out.

Just after nightfall we packed our gear into a older model station wagon, than jammed our bodies in and headed east out of Rapid City on Highway 44. The snow storm covered our trail out of town . The winds were beginning to blow harder as we passed the small airport as we continued on to Scenic.

The howling blowing snow made visibility difficult forcing us to a crawl. No one said a word as we made our way through the cold freezing night. The gusting winds and snow rocked the car back and forth violently creating the feeling of tense dire expectations of what lay in front of us as we inched our way foreword. When we arrived at Scenic, it was still early, the Long Horn Saloon stood dark and still as we passed, the animal skulls nailed to its false façade gave it a ghostly foreboding appearance. At that moment a feeling came over me that we were entering through the gates of hell.

The un-kept reservation road was narrow and full of large pot holes, that, with the loud howling wind and blowing snow, knocked us about in our seats, forcing us to slow down to a snails pace . As we crawled slowly through the Badlands the age old formations came at us like eerie moving ghost shadows. I began to feel as if we had entered through another dimension, and began to wonder about its reality. As I looked out through the storm silhouettes, not a part of the general landscape, misshapen forms appeared through the storm. As we moved closer, the objects materialized as junked overturned cars that had been abandoned where they had either died of old age or wrecked in some common place drunken frenzy. Finally, a small white steeple church appeared, one similar to the one I had seen on the Rosebud reservation some months back. It too was empty and abandoned....an uncomfortable premonition of this adventure came over me for a fleeting second as we passed this symbol of oppression.
Jim, finally said, "There’s Porcupine, just up ahead."

I would learn later that Porcupine is community not far north of Wounded Knee, and it had been a major staging area for people that moved in and out of Wounded Knee during the occupation.
It had taken us three hours to get through the snowstorm, normally it was a one hour drive. Like wolves not wanting to be detected by our prey, we cautiously made our way through the small community of homes until we came to a gate that lead to a dirt driveway onto private property. Jim jumped out and opened the barbed wire gate and back in after closing it. We followed the diagonal road’s easterly direction until our head beams showed us two old one room log houses. As we pulled up to a barbed wire fence that encircled the two log homes a figure appeared from around the corner of the one that sat to the right. Jim opened the door and stepped out waving and yelling at the shadowed figure. "Oscar, its me, Jim!"
Another medium build man appeared out of the shadows of the house. He hurried toward us, opening the wire gate then waved us through. Jim crawled back behind the wheel and drove the car through parking next to one of the cabins. The six of us piled out to follow our host a short distance to cabin filing through the door. It was light with one kerosene lantern which was burning on an old worn small kitchen table. Oscar Bear Runner, a short, medium set and wiry Oglala in his sixties, with a hurried manner about him and his son, Dennis, appeared . They both looked us over as Jim introduced each one of us to them…. taking each of their hands in turn with a hardy greeting shake.

I stood next to a little wood pot belly stove, absorbing the heat that was radiating out from it. After a short while it began to drive the chill out of my bones. It was a comforting feeling, I began to feel at ease with the two strangers before me. They were gathering up cups and filling them with black coffee they had brewed on the wood stove special this occasion. Jim and Leonard had taken chairs at the small table next to our host who were still standing, while the rest of us remained standing with coffee cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
Oscar, straightened up and looked at us to see that all of us had a cup and than said, "make yourselves at home. There are things to sit on, you just have to look around." Each one of us turned our heads and stepped to an object that could be used as a seat. One found a short wooden stool, another a milk can and the last was a wooden box. Monty, the youngest of our group, stepped over to where Dennis had sat and joined him on the edge of an old sagging double bed that sat against the wall to northwest corner of the room.

Oscar had taken the last chair at the table with Jim and Leonard. They began to talk about what was happening in the communities on Pine Ridge. Oscar began recounting the goon assaults and killings that had occurred since Wounded Knee. He said, "Helen Red Feather was attached and arrested for 'being an AIM sympathizer.' The goons kicked her in stomach, she was pregnant. Than Clarence Cross and his brother Vernal, were shot by tribal police while sleeping in their car. Clarence died. Vernal survived a bullet wound, but was arrested for "assaulting a BIA tribal policeman." Oscar said that is a lot of fear and tension in all of the districts and he with a smile said, “I am sure happy to see you all here with us."

Jim began talking about taking a horse ride to Manderson and Oscar, listening, began shaking his head in affirmation of Jims' suggestion. Jim turned from his conversation with Leonard and Oscar, to me and asked if I wanted to take a horse back ride with him . I shuck my head affirmatively and said, "Sure, why not." With a twinkle in his eyes, Oscar turned and asked me, "Are you a cowboy?" "No, Oscar, just another Indian that knows he can ride a horse." It had been a long time since I had ridden a horse, but I liked the idea of riding over the snow covered land I had found myself. And it would give me a first hand opportunity to get myself familiar with the lay of the land.

Jim and Leonard stood up from their chairs, after Oscar told them that we could stay in the small log cabin that sat next to his. Oscar, moved toward the door and the rest of us followed. The cabin sat about fifteen yards away from Oscars' cabin, and it was about half the size of the main cabin. The small cabin had two bunk beds set up against one wall and two army cots sitting next to another wall to accommodate the six of us . A small pot belly wood stove stood in the middle of the room. Jim turned to Geronimo, "Why don't you pull the car up close to the cabin." When Geronimo brought the car around, we all unloaded our gear and took it to our chosen bunks; settled back in our sleeping-bags for a welcomed good nights sleep.

Early, the following mourning there were two horses, saddled, and waiting outside the cabin for Jim and I. I had dressed with the warmest clothing I owned, but as I stepped out into the snow, I know that it was not going to be a warm ride. We mounted the horses as the others looked on with faces that didn't believe that either one of us could even get on the horses. We waved as our horses turned and walked off with us toward the southeast snow covered rolling hills.
We moved casually over the snow covered ghostly landscape, letting the horses take us at their own pace. When we got to the top of one high hill, Jim stuck out his arm and with a pointed finger, "That is Wounded Knee and over to the right will be Manderson." I looked out over a wide expanse of country below us. Except for a few scattered trees it was barren for a far as the eye saw. I wondered how people could live in it, but as we continued on, I began to feel its spacious charm. We crossed a two lane highway, than headed down an embankment to an ice covered stream. The horses didn't hesitate as we urged them on, broke through the thin ice and moved the short distance across the cold stream, then took a short jump up and over the embankment to flat land. After two hours on horseback we rode into a cheap government cluster housing area. The Oglala Lakota who opened the door to Jim and I went quickly back to the kitchen, filled two cups with hot coffee, before expressing his excited pleasure of our visit. Jim had befriended him at the 71 day Wounded Knee the occupation.

I didn’t ask questions, knowing that all things would be revealed at the proper time. I had no idea what the purpose of our visit was, but I knew that it was connected to our mission on Pine Ridge. Jim spent all day in conversation, I took no part in, with the man and woman. I sat on their living room couch reading a book I had found laying on a end table. When night fall came Jim and I got back on our horses and headed back to Oscars place. The wind began to kick up and snow began to fall when we left. We made our way back in the cover of night through a little blizzard. Man was it cold. We following the same route we had come. By the time we arrived back to the cabin I was freezing to the bone all I think about was getting myself rapped around that little hot potbellied wood stove.

When Jim and I went through the door everyone inside the cabin greeted us with smiling faces. They were happy to see us back from our adventure. They didn't ask any questions about our ride, but waited for Jim to give them some news. Jim and I said nothing as we stood close to stove driving the cold away. Leonard told us to get our gear together as he and Jim headed out the door explaining that they needed to speak to Oscar and would be back.

When they returned we were dressed out in greens with a weapon in one hand and coffee cup in the other. Leonard said, "We are going into Pine Ridge so be on your toes. Dick has a woman who lives in a trailer house that he visits and we are going to it to see if we can catch him there”.
We drove through another snowstorm as we headed toward Pine Ridge village. We made our way through unfamiliar streets until we came to an empty lot and parked. Jim told us to wait in the car, while he and Leonard got out and disappeared somewhere into the night.

I didn't like the idea of just sitting in a car because it made us vulnerable to any policeman or goon that might happen by. The wait was boring as all of us vigilantly peered out. We smoked cigarettes, said little as the snowstorm helped to cover our presence. The reappearance of Jim and Leonard broke the tension.

They returned and reported seeing nothing that lead them to believe that Dick was in the trailer house. After some small talk about possibilities it was agreed that we should take the opportunity to visit another friend who lived close by. It turned out to be Gladys Bissonette, who opened her door to Jim, Leonard and I. They talked about Dicks whereabouts and movements, but Gladys said that no one that she had spoken with knew where he was, no one had seen him around for days.

Although there had been nothing said, she seemed to know why we were on Pine Ridge, and it became clear that she was one of many that supported our purpose. There were photos of her grandchildren on the walls and Pedro was amongst them. Her face was still strained and haggard after the funeral, but anger could be seen in her quick movements around the house as she talked about the continued assaults by Dick Wilson's goons and she said with finality, "I hope you get that son of a bitch."

We drove back to the trailer house and set up an observation point that each one of us took turns watching until early mourning. We arrived back at Bear Runners just as the mourning light turned the landscape to a gray haze. (Include information from Jim ) [14] Interview Jim Robideau. May 2005.

We had been on the Pine Ridge reservation for weeks meeting with different families and looking for Dick Wilson, but he was not to be found. For some reason he just was not on the reservation. We had been to everyplace people had told us to look, time and time again, without success. Ya, we were amateurs, but we had been willing to try when others had not. I began to feel like we were just blindly stumbling around the reservation, it gave me the uncomfortable thought that maybe we had no business being here. Toward the end of the third week everyone began to get agitated with our lack of success. It began to become clear that if something did not materialize soon we would have to abandon the effort.

The short cold winter days left us with long nights to tell stories about each other. Leonard, who loved to tease others was having a hay day with everyone. One evening someone began talking about the “chickens of the Knee.” Jim said that after a helicopter ride with the feds Russell Means and Clyde Bellecourt left for some strange reason, after being in the Knee for only three weeks. Folks believed it had to do with conversations they had with the fed’s that scared them out.

Then there was the Black activist, who came in thinking that he would save the Indians with his civil rights experience in the south. Ray Robinson Jr. evidently was shot in the thigh when he reportedly “went crazy”. A Wounded Knee Vet said that he died as a result of “shock and bleeding from the gunshot wound”. It was rumored that he was buried on scared land.
One evening while we sat staring at the pot bellied stove that had become the center of our life and attention during our stay at Oscars. Leonard looked over at me and asked,” Well, what do you think Bob?" I looked back at Leonard and than at the rest of our crew.” Well, we didn't come here to homestead Oscar's land. If something does not happen soon, it should become obvious to us that we are in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing. And we had better move on to do the productive work we all have committed ourselves for .”

While waiting, Jim and two of the other men in our group had stopped at the Scenic Bar and had come on two goons sitting and drinking beers. Jim went back to the car to get a .22 semi auto target pistol. As he was shoving it into the belt of his pants, it accidentally fired hitting himself in the thigh. He was rushed a Rapid City hospital.

We didn't learn about it until the following day after the two men that were with Jim, returned to Oscars'. It was obvious that we could not continue, things just had not gone right. The snow storms had brought an omen, it seemed to all of us, that disaster was about to strike us if we attempted to continue on our present course. Most of us were relived after all agreeing to abandon any further idea of getting Wilson.

It had become so obvious to all of us that we needed no further conversations to confirm it. We packed it up and drove back to Evelyn Bordeaux's . We stayed until we were capable of moving on. Four of our members took the car and headed back home to the west coast, while Leonard and I remained in Rapid City.

After doctors had patched up Jim’s leg, the FBI showed up while he was helpless in bed with an arrest warrant for him. They hand cuffed him to the bed after placing him under arrest him on a “red bandana Joe” warrant for the fall of 1972 Custer riot and demonstration that he had been caught on film showing him with a police baton beating the shit out of the police he had taken it from.

Jim was eventually taken to the County Jail, and not long after friends bonded him out of jail. He left with others for Seattle, Washington. I stayed with a lady I met and began an affair with after returning from Pedro‘s funeral. I moved into the AIM house on Fairview Street with my new lady, Andrea Skye. Madonna Gilbert who seemed to be in charge of operations, was sharing her life with Milo Goings.

Jim, who had went back to Seattle, then traveled a bit, going to Oklahoma and a number of other states, came back to South Dakota in the early part 1975 for trial and sentencing on the Custer Riot charges.

When Jim and Leonard returned to Seattle in 1974, a power struggle began to surface. Conflicting attitudes brought on a slight clash between Jim and Leonard. Leonard said that he really did not care who the leader was. He knew that when we went into actions, it would be all about who wanted to go, and there would not be repercussions if you decided not to go. On the other hand, Jim felt that Leonard was developing more influence with the group, jealousy sparked hard feelings. Leonard had a no bull-shit attitude; and Jim was still using the strong fisted approach in relating to the group. Richard said, Jim took the attitude that “I am the leader and this is the way it is going to be.” Jim also started to became more involved in Lakota ceremonies and Peyote ceremonies. A lot of brothers on the west coast didn't use peyote and the Lakota ceremonies were not their way. I guess Jim did not have the sense to understand that they had a culture too."

Leonard left for White River, South Dakota, where friends put him up and kept him out of sight of the law. He was now wanted in Wisconsin for allegedly assaulting a police officer and now in South Dakota for allegedly shooting at two tribal policemen during Pedro‘s funeral. I continued to live at the AIM house and began working with local Dakota AIM, who were trying to get an Indian Survival School started in Rapid City. I continued participating as security for AIM events and for the AIM leadership who came to Rapid City or the reservation. Milo Goings and I became partners in most events that required us for security.

Andrea and I continued to live in the AIM house with Madonna Gilbert and Milo Goings for some months. Madonna, Lorelei and Andrea were working on trying to get an AIM school in Rapid City, but could not find the resources needed to pull it together. Then when Russell Means decided to run for Tribal Chairman against Dick Wilson in the late fall of 1973 and 1974, Milo and I were asked to do security for him. It was during this time that Madonna, Milo, Russ, Andrea and I went to Porcupine to be with Ted Means and Lorelei (DeCora) Means, an Indian Health Service (HIS) nurse who had decided to have a natural child birthing at her cabin. The Goons were still running about so Milo and I stayed outside most of time doing security.

Milo Goings, an Oglala from Pine Ridge and I began spending more time on Pine Ridge at various functions and meetings to guard Russell Means. On February the 27, a gathering took place at the Porcupine Community Center, to celebrate the first anniversary of the Wounded Knee occupation. Most of the AIM leadership showed up, Dennis Banks, the Bellecourts, Russell Means and various other leaders of AIM chapters.

It was during this occasion that I met Dino Butler again. I stepped out the door and stopped short when I saw him . I knew him but couldn't place the face, so I said "Don't I know you?" He stepped up to me and re-introduced himself to me; and than we both recalled the days when we had walked the prison yard of the Oregon State Penitentiary with a mutual friend.
I wouldn't see Dino again until Leonard and he showed up at my house in Swift Bird, on the Cheyenne River reservation, some nine months later.

Russ lost the election to Richard Wilson. An attempt was made to challenge the outcome of the election through the Federal Court in Rapid City, with Judge Bogue, presiding over the case. He didn’t have a chance in hell. Russ than asked the United States Commission on Civil Rights to investigate the election claiming that there had been fraud involved in the voting. The United States Commission , after reviewing the election results recommended that: In view of the facts found here, the most appropriate course would appear to be for the Tribal Council to order a new election. At this writing, the Council has not had the opportunity to consider the allegations of irregularities in the election. Should the council fail to order a new election, it will then be incumbent upon the BIA to determine whether the present tribal representatives are entitled to recognition. In our view, the results of the election are invalid at least so far as those candidates running on a reservation-wide basis, the president and vice-president. No Attempt was made to evaluate or determine whether the election was fair with respect to the election of members of the Tribal council.

A sweat lodge ceremony, then followed a special healing yuwipi ceremony on Pine Ridge in the community of Manderson. Ted Means and Lorelei moved to the Pine Ridge reservation, where Lorelei had her first child in a log cabin. Milo Goings, Madonna, Russ, Ted, Andrea and I attended. Fear of goon attacks had become a daily concern and everyone made extra efforts to carry their guns to be in readiness to defend against it.

The Lakota AIM house in Rapid City was turned into a Survival School under Madonna Gilbert.
Andrea and I move to Cheyenne River after the birth of our son Robert. Andria wanted to have her own house and she moved us to Swift bird, a community next to the Missouri River. It was not long after that I met David Hill. I was looking for a car and word came that David had a station wagon he wanted to sell, so my wife and I took the two hour trip to Rapid for the car. He was still with Thelma Rios, who had been my wife’s friend for some years. I wouldn’t see David again for about a year. But, during the intern I heard about the court roon scuffle in Sioux Falls where his left eye was damaged. After, buying the car from David Andria and I took a few trips to the Wounded Knee trails in Sioux Falls. But after they were moved to St Paul, Minnesota we reverted to a domestic type of living, with breaks that took us to occasional AIM events or ceremonies. It was during this period that she and I went to Green Grass to meet with Russ, Dennis, Vernon and Arvol Looking Horse, the keeper of the sacred calf pipe bundle. The sacred calf pipe bundle is brought out, but not unwrapped during a sweat that was part of scheduled meeting with Arvol.

Shortly after that we traveled to Porcupine to a yuwepi ceremony on Pine Ridge to name the new baby girl of Lorelei and Teds. Some years later she was run over by a motorist during a run to Support Prisoners at Sioux Falls Prison.

Jobs were hard to come by in the country so I spent many days hunting and fishing to supplement food on the table. Winter came in the fall of 1974 I became house bound much of the time because the snow storms are intense in the winter months. That summer I had found minimum wage work lifting bundles of straw onto a conveyer that feed the bundles into a shredding machine then ejected the straw out along the road embankment to prevent erosion.
That spring of 1975 Dino and Leonard came up to visit me in Swift bird. They said that they were still with Dennis Banks and that all of them were on Pine Ridge because Dennis had begun trial on the 1972 Custer riot charges. That they would be down there “Watching out for his ass on Pine Ridge,” until his trial concluded.

Copyright. 1979 by Robert Robideau