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I got this email from a fellow Rappahannock Tribe Member the other
day.
Chief Harold Hicks Passes
Chief Harold Lee Hicks, 59, of Bolivar, Missouri passed suddenly on
Thursday, January 27, 2006 at Saint John's Hospital in Springfield.
Chief Hicks was instrumental in the formation of the Water Hollow Band
of Chickamauga Cherokees and was our first chief. He said many times
that he hoped to live long enough to get the band on a solid foundation.
He was successful in his efforts.
Harold was a big man in many ways. A loving husband, doting father and
adoring grandfather, Harold's family was his life.
He always had a funny story to tell, and no one could remain depressed
very long in his presence. His booming laughter will echo inside my head
as long as I live.
He had a deep connection with his People, past and present. His fame as
an arrowhead finder was legendary. While walking through the woods or an
open field with friends, he would often shush the conversation claiming
he'd "heard" an arrowhead. Unfailingly he would then walk a few feet,
dig in the dirt and find one.
The last words he said to me were "I'll see you down the road, Old
Girl." I can hardly wait.
His ashes will be scattered on Sacred land at a later date.
day.
Chief Harold Hicks Passes
Chief Harold Lee Hicks, 59, of Bolivar, Missouri passed suddenly on
Thursday, January 27, 2006 at Saint John's Hospital in Springfield.
Chief Hicks was instrumental in the formation of the Water Hollow Band
of Chickamauga Cherokees and was our first chief. He said many times
that he hoped to live long enough to get the band on a solid foundation.
He was successful in his efforts.
Harold was a big man in many ways. A loving husband, doting father and
adoring grandfather, Harold's family was his life.
He always had a funny story to tell, and no one could remain depressed
very long in his presence. His booming laughter will echo inside my head
as long as I live.
He had a deep connection with his People, past and present. His fame as
an arrowhead finder was legendary. While walking through the woods or an
open field with friends, he would often shush the conversation claiming
he'd "heard" an arrowhead. Unfailingly he would then walk a few feet,
dig in the dirt and find one.
The last words he said to me were "I'll see you down the road, Old
Girl." I can hardly wait.
His ashes will be scattered on Sacred land at a later date.
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