Katie Gale: A Coast Salish Woman's Life on Oyster Bay

22. A “Broad and Liberal Man” Meets His Death

218 22 A “Broad and Liberal Man” Meets His Death It was four o’clock on the morning of September 23, 1901. Lillian and Joseph Gale, still newlyweds, having exchanged vows in November 1899, had been partying all night with other Kamilche-area folk at Carr’s hall, up the road from Old Kamilche and a short buggy ride from the Gale house on the bay. These not-infrequent gatherings were always occasions for many toasts. They were also an excuse, much anticipated, for lots of dancing. The local folks enjoyed waltzes, polkas, quadrilles, and even schottisches. Some of the youth loved the new ragtime twosteps the piano player introduced during the evening. There was always a bounty of music at these gatherings. Someone commanded the piano, usually offering popular numbers learned “by ear,” while another selftaught musician played the fiddle. Sometimes a harmonica joined in. Those who knew even a few words sang along and hummed the rest. That night, while the women chatted about their children and the new school year over punch and cookies, the men’s conversation was dominated by the news of President McKinley’s assassination just days before at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York. Though he had been shot on September 6, he hadn’t died until September 14. His wounds were not attended to properly and it was gangrene, not the bullet, that had killed him. The anarchist who shot him was in jail. “A foreigner,” Joseph noted repeatedly to the others during the night. He was Leon Czolgosz, son A “Broad and Liberal Man” Meets His Death 219 of Polish immigrants and a devotee of Emma Goldman, who is said to have told him one day during his political infancy that “if the life of a tyrant is in your way, take it. The world will applaud your act.” Teddy Roosevelt, the Rough Rider, had been sworn in as their new president at age forty-three. The men admired Roosevelt and liked what they’d read in the paper about his speech at the Minnesota State Fair earlier that month. Something about speaking softly but carrying a stick. So McKinley was out, Roosevelt was in, and Queen Victoria had died the previous January. It seemed to be not only a new century but the end of a way of life, even on Oyster Bay and certainly for Indians all over the United States. Soon to come, for example, was Roosevelt’s December 1901 speech to Congress in which he trumpeted the assimilationist views of men like Joseph Gale and ballyhooed the successes of the General Allotment Act: “In my judgment,” he said, “the time has arrived when we should definitely make up our minds to recognize the Indian as an individual and not as a member of a tribe. The General Allotment Act is a mighty pulverizing engine to break up the tribal mass.” In his 1902 State of the Union speech he asserted (and enlarged upon this assertion) that the aims of national policy toward Indians should be “their ultimate absorption into the body of our people.” It was still dark, early in the morning, when Joseph stumbled out toward the barn. He was humming the tune of the song always played at the end of the dance party evenings these days, “After the Ball.” The Gale horse was there in that dark barn, the animal drowsy and silent, waiting his master’s return. The carriage had been left just outside in the care of some boys who would watch the horses and hitch horses to carriages when the adults were ready to go home. Lillian waited in the hall. She knew Joseph would call her when the buggy was ready. He and Lillian would tuck a blanket around themselves and drive the mile or two back home along the still fairly dry, rough roadbed. The fall rains had not yet begun. A waning half-moon shone in the sky. It wouldn’t be light for two or more hours. It was chilly, but not freezing. Still, Joseph could see A “Broad and Liberal Man” Meets His Death 220 his breath in the damp fall air. No need to worry about the children wondering why they were gone so late. They weren’t at home. Maud, sixteen, and Ray, thirteen, were boarded in Olympia schools now. The Gales’ new home overlooking the bay was a showplace...