Meeting Turtle

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Reprinted from The Pioneer Times Multi Media Magazine May 2005

The Story of Meeting White Turtle

Or How I Discovered Living History

By Jim Cummings

Everyone has his or her stories about getting into living history and re-enacting and I would like to share one of mine with you. It concerns a re-enactor named White Turtle.

White Turtle is a member of The Painted Stone Settlers of Shelbyville, KY. It was at the first Long Run Massacre Re-Enactment in 1999 that I first met him. As so many of us, I was fascinated and thought that I had stepped back in time.

I had to make a delivery to Shelbyville for our business Graphic Enterprises. I had a camera with me (as a professional photographer there aren’t many occasions when I don’t have a camera with me) and I saw the Pow Wow and Re-Enactment Signs pointing toward Clear Creek Park. When I saw the Pow Wow in progress I took out a camera and headed that way thinking that would be were the re-enactment would be.

I started shooting photos but I have shot Pow Wow’s before and it wasn’t all that interesting to me. As I started to put my camera away and return to my vehicle a voice said “If you want to really see something .. follow me.”

It seems the re-enactment was in another part of the park. And he was right. It was way more interesting.

I started shooting as fast as I could. I reloaded two cameras and quickly went thru several rolls of film. After the main battle I was curious about the re-enactors. I asked where I could find the one Indian that had filled so many of my shots. I was told that I would find him down by the creek in has camp.

White Turtle in 1999

As I strolled about I discovered another world. I began seeing all kinds of strange looking people. I started shooting again and soon had emptied two more cameras of two rolls of film. I looked around the camps and wondered what would make people leave the comforts of their home for the hardships of pioneer life.

Just about that time White Turtle came down the path. It’s a good thing because I might have had trouble finding him among the 40 or 50 tents spread before me. I stopped him and introduced myself. And thus begins the story of White Turtle. And me.

He took the time to answer all my questions the best he could and believe me I had plenty of questions. The few questions that he could not answer for me, he told me exactly who to ask that would know the answer. I again started shooting pictures. As a photographer I felt like I had found the last Indian tribe in America. As far s the pioneers I thought I had somehow taken a wrong turn at Cumberland Gap.

When we got back to his camp he introduced me to an Indian maiden named Morning Glory. Then he started talking about his persona. I was amazed that anyone had taken the time to go through all of this research to do this.

We talked for a long time and he told me that I should come back on Sunday for another battle. He apologized then and said he had to go see some native friends. Upon leaving he said that I had some funny looking things around my neck and that I even dressed funny for a big white man.

I went along with him and said these funny looking boxes had images in them and with a stick I drew some images on the ground. Lots of images I told him. Then he looked me straight in the eye and said with a big smile, “you come back tomorrow, bring boxes and show me drawings in box.” With that he walked down the path smoking a white clay pipe.

As I left the area I could see the pioneers and their children getting ready for a big celebration that night. But it was late and I still had to get to a one hour photo place to get the 8 rolls of film I had just shot developed.

One of the first Long Run Massacre Re-Enactments

I could not wait to tell my wife what I had seen that day. Believe me when I say my wife expects anything when I come home. She usually takes it all with a grain of salt. But when I told her that I had discovered the last tribe of Indians in America and a group of settlers that had wondered too far from the Gap, she was skeptical, really skeptical.

When I told Kathy that I had a long conversation with White Turtle she wanted to know what his real name was. “White Turtle.” I answered. “No, his real name? And just like Turtle had done I stuck with it and repeated, “White Turtle.”

Well she was really skeptical when I said I had taken the film to a One Hour Walmart instead of the professional lab I usually used. But White Turtle wanted to see the drawings from the box on Sunday. Even the one hour lab said they could not promise that many rolls of film in under three hours. Well $200.00 later for the film and the rush service I had my prints. I had been as nervous as an expectant father.

When I got back to the photo department I noticed all the technicians standing in a group staring at something. My first thought was “Oh no the machine has broken and ruined all my film.” Then I realized they were looking at 8 x 10” prints. My film - but I hadn’t ordered any 8 x 10’s. They said that they had been so amazed at what they were seeing coming out of the processor that they had made a few enlargements. The photo the girl was holding was none other than White Turtle.

I took my precious photos home to show my skeptical wife that I really had seen a lost tribe and some pioneers that missed the Gap. As always I wouldn’t let anyone see the photos until I had screened them. As a professional I have always done this. It saves me the embarrassment of explaining poor shots and explaining why I bracket shots and take many of the same things at different exposures. But to my surprise most all these photos were good. And at least half were very, very good. I threw very few away.

When I gave my wife the photos to look at she did not say a word. She went through the entire stack again. And went through them again. As an art major I have always valued her opinion. We met working for a newspaper – she as a graphic artist and me as a photographer.

She began putting the photos into piles and still hadn’t uttered a word. After she had finished she had four stacks of photos. The Very good, the good, the so-so and the don’t show anybody pile. I have always found it easier to critique other peoples photos than my own so I waited to hear what the graphic artist had to say. “You see,” I said, “it is the last tribe of Indians in America.” We joked for a while and she wanted to know which one was White Turtle. Soon she grabbed up the photos and moved to the computer. “Well let’s get busy, she said, so you can show White Turtle the pictures from the magic box.”

A Long Run Poster from 2000

I was still a bit put off by her silence. “Well what do you really think,” I asked. She turned to me and said “Jim, I think you have really stumbled onto something here. The reason I haven’t said much is because I am nearly speechless. I had no idea people really did things like this. It is fascinating.”

Well, we worked until the wee hours in the morning scanning, and cropping and the first Painted Stone/Long Run Massacre Poster was born. We really had something now to show White Turtle. I didn’t sleep much that night – I kept thinking of all that I had seen and photographed. We were used to deadline work from the newspaper business and working long hours but as I looked again at the enlargements and the poster I knew it was good work.

Kathy wasn’t really nuts about the idea of going with me to Shelbyville that day. I think she would have preferred more sleep. But I convinced her that it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and we could spend the time together. She got up and moving and in the shower and within an hour we were on our way to Shelbyville, KY to see our first re-enactment together.

When we got to the park the crowd was already starting to come in and I loaded my 35 mm camera with fresh film but this time I also brought along a camera with a high speed motor drive. It shot 4 frames a second and was the camera I had always used at Indy and for action and sports. When you start shooting that bad boy you could literally shoot a roll of 36 exposures in 9 seconds. But I could also reload a new roll in 45 –60 seconds.

So I was ready. I knew what I wanted to shoot that day and I was ready for anything with 10 rolls of film at the ready. I was out for an elephant that day and nothing could stop me.

Kathy and I started to follow the row of tents and looking at the crafts, she asked me, “What is all this stuff?” She was a city girl from Cincinnati and really hadn’t a clue what some of the items were. And I must admit although I recognized a lot more items than her I still saw a few that left me wondering.

We had left home so quickly that we hadn’t taken time for breakfast. So we headed toward where the food was being served. Now keep in mind this city person from Cincinnati no less (the west side at that) is going to eat at a period correct re-enactment. I bought her what looked like a hamburger and a diet coke. Little did she know that she was eating Bambi. (That’s a story for another day!)

We took time to talk to some of the pioneers as we strolled through the camp. I started to shoot pictures as we talked. Soon we began to realize that we were hearing an entirely new language. It was like a light in a dark room.

We had never given much thought to how our ancestors had lived. Now here we were talking to people that were used to living like people from another century. Our education up till now had been missing a few links. I had always considered myself well read – until then.

That day at The Long Run Massacre we both got an education. The more we learned the more interesting it became. We began to see that these people weren’t just “playing cowboys and Indians…” but that they were portraying their ancestors and in that way learning a lot themselves.

Now I have been camping before but not like these folks. There was just no comparison to this and modern camping.

What I learned that weekend was how little I knew. The history of my ancestors and my country began calling to me that day.

But now back to White Turtle. We followed the path down to the Indian village. I had the poster I had made to give to White Turtle. But there seemed to be a gathering of Indians in the camp and likewise with the pioneers. They wee planning battle strategy and doing a safety check before the main event. I listened in on the pioneer plans and found out that at the Long Run Massacre the Indians win.

Since I had missed talking to White Turtle I decided to go and get a good vantage point for shooting the event. Boy, I thought to myself if only I could get a little closer – like out on to the field. I could get some great shots.

I looked around for someone in charge and approached a man in pioneer dress. I introduced myself and was answered in a baritone voice laced with a southern accent “howdy I’m Squire Boone, little brother of Daniel Boone. I thought he was joking. But I played along. “Mr. Squire Boone, would it be possible to get inside the rope to take pictures.” “Well, he said, ”I guess that would be alright. Just stay out of the re-enactors way and be careful.”

One of the most memorable photos I’ve taken of White Turtle over the years

I followed Squire Boone’s directives and stepped inside the rope with my three cameras around my neck. I would be ready for anything. Then the settlers and children started down the field. Squire Boone was narrating as they walked. The battle commenced and the Indians and settlers were shooting at each other. People were falling and women and children were screaming. Captives were being dragged away into the woods. I was shooting camera’s and re-enactor’s were shooting black powder. Right then something happened on my left side and I turned to see the action coming right toward me. I had emptied my first camera and I laid it down and pulled out another and continued shooting. Their shooting was getting louder as were the groans and screams of the settlers. As I turned to shoot across the field something caught my eye. It was White Turtle. He was shooting his long rifle and carrying a ball club.

I had the second camera about half empty and I still had not pulled out the big boy with the super motor drive on it. From experience in shooting sports, you keep a running count in your head of the shots you have taken and when it will be time to reload.

Dean Phillips and White Turtle in one of their many hand to hand combat exploits

Then things really started to happen. White Turtle was shooting and whacking away with his ball club.

What happened next was similar to a runner hitting a wall. If you have ever experienced it you will understand what I mean. It is an amazing sensation and can happen in any sport.

All of a sudden you feel like you are indestructible and you can go on forever. Things begin to feel as if they are happening in slow motion. And time almost stops. I have experienced it before in other situations many times. But I had not expected this. I was so caught up in the battle that things began to seem as if they were in slow motion. White Turtle started right towards me and I was shooting directly at him when a tall blond pioneer fellow came right into view. I reached for the big camera and started shooting. The blond pioneer grabbed White Turtle and threw him to the ground. They started to fight right in front of me. They were yelling and screaming and grunting. It was the real thing happening right

before my very eyes. The pioneer (Dean Phillips) was down on the ground. White Turtle got up gave a war yell looked in my directions and under his breath said to me “Did you get some good shots?” With that I came back to the present.

With Morning Glory and TJ

And ever since that first re-enactment in 1999 White Turtle and I have remained friends. And I have added many other friends along the way. I have taken some great shots of Dean and Turtle in hand-to-hand combat. I have covered big events and small events, I have written stories and taken thousand upon thousands of photographs. We have promoted living history, added a website and this magazine. But through it all I will never forget The Long Run Massacre Re-Enactment of 1999 and an Indian named White Turtle who invited me to come a little closer and reach out and experience living history. Thanks Turtle!