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55 Patrick immediately expresses something like sadness, resignation, and anxiety all rolled into an apology, as he and his sister Cyndi find themselves suddenly assuming the mantle as Kanosh Band elders. Their last elder, their mother Vera, beloved by the whole tribe, passed away in 2000. Patrick has had to step up time and again to take responsibility, navigating the LDS placement program, helping the Koosharem Band get housing, re-forming the tribe after termination, and now speaking as an elder for his band. Iwas in the placement program through LDS Social Services. You’d live in a white home and go to school in a bigger city. My parents thought it would be good for my education . Most of the kids I knew my age in Richfield had already been taken away from their families—alcoholism and stuff—and were placed in foster homes throughout the state. Our family was the only one there that had a whole family: kids, a mom and dad. I wasn’t happy in placement, did only one year, but my sisters did better. Three of them continued with the program for several years. This was during termination. We were forced to assimilate into white society and weren’t ready. A lot of them, because of the low self-esteem, started drinking. If they got really hard up, they’d get paint thinner, anything to get high. For the families broken apart like that, maybe placement was the best thing for them. My mom, Vera Timmican Charles, and dad, Kenneth Foster Charles, were married the Indian way. My dad asked my grandfather for her hand, he agreed. When he told my mom that she was going to marry this older guy, she said no, no, no. But he said you’re gone, so she went. She said she didn’t love him at first, but over the years they gained that love, that trust. They did stay together. I think it was good. In 1974 they got married in the Manti Temple, had all us kids sealed to them. My dad was the strong, silent type. He was always there; I knew he was there. He let you experience life yourself. If you did something wrong he’d let you know, either with a belt or a stick, so you didn’t do too many things wrong. I felt some kind of connection to the Lamanites. They weren’t bad people, just uninformed , and once they were informed they became better than the Nephites. Any spirituality is good, wherever you get it. When I went on my [LDS] mission, I probably learned more about spirituality than anytime else. I like to pray when I feel like I need some extra help from somewhere. I learned that on my mission, how to pray. I was a missionary on the Cote Indian Reservation in Saskatchewan. We shared being Indians. They were Roman Catholic, went to those schools, cut their hair. They weren’t excited about the white man’s religion. Patrick Charles kanosh and shivwits bands, born March 17, 1954 56 I had an experience with the devil when I was on my mission. One night we came back in to town from the reservation, about 9:00 pm, during the summer, so the sun was still up. Knock at the door; there were our [LDS] sisters, saying one of our church members tried to commit suicide or drugs or something. My companion and I heard this voice coming out of a room in the back, calling my name. It was one of those deep, throaty, scarymovie type voices. My companion and I looked at each other. I said; “I don’t want to go in there; not with that kind of a voice.” But he agreed to come with me. We went in and she was on the bed, stiff, real rigid, her eyes were closed. The voice said my name again, “come closer.” “What do you want from me?” I asked. “There’s nothing you can do to get rid of us. We are legion and there is nothing you can do to cast us out.” So we did an LDS blessing. When we anointed her head with oil she started thrashing around, growling. We went into the kitchen to ask someone to call an ambulance, when I heard the voice again. I went back. This time she was out of the bed standing by the window , looking out. She said the same thing...

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