Corn likker communion

We are an unlikely combination for friendship. Brothers Deweese and Jasper Wolfe are Cherokee, living on the ground where they were raised, speaking Cherokee in their homes as their mother did. English was their second language as they grew up. Most of the eleven sisters and brothers gathered for the Saturday evening meal at Deweese’s house, perched on the side of the mountain. Down the steep slope from Deweese’s house , you could see where his parents house stood..
We were earnest southern Christian college students who lived in their old school at the base of the mountain. They would come play basketball in the gym with us while their mother sat and watched. When she stood, they stopped playing and gathered around her for the walk up the mountain. Mrs. Eva Wolfe wove baskets to sell and would stand in the front corner of the school yard loaded down with her baskets waiting for a ride to town. Cars were not plentiful on the reservation in the sixties and ride share was a way of life. Her baskets are in the Smithsonian Museum now and sell for thousands of dollars. A lucky few of us bought some from her for fifteen and twenty five dollars.
After forty years away, we have begun to share our lives as friends. First we came to do “good works”, providing labor as we did before, to clean and paint and build for those who needed help. Then we began to know one another not as helper and “helpee”, but as brothers and sisters. When Elsie, Deweese’s wife was in the hospital with kidney disease, we visited her. When she died, we came to her funeral. When Deweese called, grieving and sad, we listened. We play with the grandchildren now much as we played before. One night we sat around the fire pit telling stories and picking at each other. We porch sit and share meals together.
The women and Deweese had been cooking all day... barbequed ribs, first class potato salad, greens, fried tomatoes, greens, baked beans, macaroni and cheese, hominy, turkey and dressing, homemade hominy, home grown green beans and on the stove, a pot of bean bread. Deweese makes the best bean bread. For those of you who have never tasted bean bread, it is a corn meal batter with red beans simmered like dumplings in broth. It is a substantial form of bread, not to be eaten lightly. I like it best sliced and fried for breakfast.
After the meal, we sit and talk and watch the children play, talk about work and life and family. One of the sisters runs the language immersion program for the tribe teaching their language that was almost lost. Another sister runs the tribal Head Start program. Mary Lynn’s work was teaching others how to teach and care for young children, so their conversation is always fun for them. Walt and Claudie sit in the living room watching the Auburn LSU game with other football freaks... excuse me, fans. And in the back bedroom, Elsie’s bedroom, we gather to sing gospel.
The Wolfe family had a gospel quartet for years with daddy Amble as bass. Now Deweese sings bass. We spend an hour or so singing songs we all know and a lot we don’t know until we are plumb sung out. Then Deweese, Jasper and two of the grandchildren sing for us in their native tongue. As we sit and listen, I am moved to tears and I am sure God’s eyes are tender with love, too at the sights and sounds of the children of God loving one another.After awhile, we leave and head down the mountain leaving Walt behind for the finish of the game. It is a close one and he can’t stand to leave it. Deweese will bring him down when it is over.
Elsie’s death last February is still a raw hurting wound for Deweese. We planted a four season flower garden in her memory at the Wolfe Family Cemetery overlooking a majestic mountain just down the road from their home. We gather in a circle, hold hands, and pray for Elsie and her loved ones. This Cherokee man who has taken us into his heart and home, weeps as we pray. We hold him close and stand watching the sunlight dance on the mountainside. We sit and stand on Deweese’s front porch, looking out over the beautiful mountains of Cherokee. It was almost time to leave and we were delaying the time of parting. Mary Lynn goes the Deweese’s refrigerator and brings out a quart jar half full of a clear liquid, corn likker, white lightning, liquid gold, flu preventative ( says Deweese). We pass the mason jar around, a common cup, and as we drink, our laughter and love and grief wing their way to God. Sweet, sweet communion... and mighty smooth corn likker, too.