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| Grand Island is under the 'g' in Niagara Falls |
I was camped out in the Grand Island Library parking lot, trapped in my car by driving rain and cringing with each thunder clap. There was still 45 minutes until closing time and I knew that rain of this magnitude couldn’t hold up forever. Besides, I had a book to read, no one to pick up and a cozy, safe car.
La Grande Ile, as the French explorers called it in the 1600s, is a funny place. It is a large island in the center of the Niagara River, but the river is so skinny on either side it looks more like a puzzle piece, slipped between the U.S. and Canada, than a separate entity.
La Grande Ile, as the French explorers called it in the 1600s, is a funny place. It is a large island in the center of the Niagara River, but the river is so skinny on either side it looks more like a puzzle piece, slipped between the U.S. and Canada, than a separate entity.
The highway bridges connect the island so seamlessly that you don’t feel like you’re on an island, just another stretch of highway. The highlight of the island for most families around here is Martin’s Fantasy Island, an small but fun amusement and water park.
For the Seneca Tribe, the island was prime fishing and hunting ground, worth taking from the Attawandron Tribe that lived on the land more than 400 years ago. After the tribe settled into a century long routine, the British usurped Grand Island as part of The Treaty of Cessation, signed with the French in 1794, at the end of the French and Indian War.
New York State purchased Grand Island from the Seneca Nation in 1815 for $1000. As part of the deal, they agreed to an ongoing payment of $500 annually (the payment is still due, every year, by June). The Seneca also retained the right to hunt and fish on the island.
But in 2002 the Senecas had second thoughts, apparently it took them a while to mull over the decision and check out the fine print, and charged New York with violating the Trade and Intercourse Act of 1790 which states that all Native American land deals needed the consent of the federal government. The ensuing drama threatened the property of 2,000 residents of the island - talk about ‘History Comes Alive’! The 4th graders, learning about the history of New York State, must have had an exciting social studies period that year.
A trial court rejected their claim, big surprise, on the grounds that the land was already “owned” by Great Britain, due to the 1764 Treaty. The court claimed that the Senecas didn’t really own the land in 1815 but the agreement was worked out in order to avoid trouble. So I want to know how exactly the French came to “own” the land and thereby concede it to the British in the first place?
The Senecas appealed and brought their case all the way to the Supreme Court, where it was denied in 2006.
After 10 more minutes of torrential downpour there was a pause, only for a moment, but long enough for me to slip off my flats and splash barefoot through the flooded parking lot to the safety of the vestibule.
It was almost 5:00 and the librarians were getting nervous, what if the thunder and lightening scared us into trying to stay late? They sent a volunteer through the shelves to remind us they were closing in 5 minutes and we would be turned out into the storm; after all rules are rules.
I picked up my book, Americas Membership Libraries, wrapped it in the plastic bag the librarian offered and puddle hopped back to the car.
By the time I drove back across the Grand Island Bridge the storm had blown east, the sun broke through the clouds and the evening unfolded, clean and refreshed. I looked back at the island in my rear view mirror and thought of how it must have looked centuries ago when there was no bridge, no highway and no ferris wheel.
The land is sacred. These words are at the core of your being. The land is our mother, the rivers our blood. Take our land away and we die. That is, the Indian in us dies. — Mary Brave Bird
For the Seneca Tribe, the island was prime fishing and hunting ground, worth taking from the Attawandron Tribe that lived on the land more than 400 years ago. After the tribe settled into a century long routine, the British usurped Grand Island as part of The Treaty of Cessation, signed with the French in 1794, at the end of the French and Indian War.
New York State purchased Grand Island from the Seneca Nation in 1815 for $1000. As part of the deal, they agreed to an ongoing payment of $500 annually (the payment is still due, every year, by June). The Seneca also retained the right to hunt and fish on the island.
But in 2002 the Senecas had second thoughts, apparently it took them a while to mull over the decision and check out the fine print, and charged New York with violating the Trade and Intercourse Act of 1790 which states that all Native American land deals needed the consent of the federal government. The ensuing drama threatened the property of 2,000 residents of the island - talk about ‘History Comes Alive’! The 4th graders, learning about the history of New York State, must have had an exciting social studies period that year.
A trial court rejected their claim, big surprise, on the grounds that the land was already “owned” by Great Britain, due to the 1764 Treaty. The court claimed that the Senecas didn’t really own the land in 1815 but the agreement was worked out in order to avoid trouble. So I want to know how exactly the French came to “own” the land and thereby concede it to the British in the first place?
The Senecas appealed and brought their case all the way to the Supreme Court, where it was denied in 2006.
After 10 more minutes of torrential downpour there was a pause, only for a moment, but long enough for me to slip off my flats and splash barefoot through the flooded parking lot to the safety of the vestibule.
It was almost 5:00 and the librarians were getting nervous, what if the thunder and lightening scared us into trying to stay late? They sent a volunteer through the shelves to remind us they were closing in 5 minutes and we would be turned out into the storm; after all rules are rules.
I picked up my book, Americas Membership Libraries, wrapped it in the plastic bag the librarian offered and puddle hopped back to the car.
By the time I drove back across the Grand Island Bridge the storm had blown east, the sun broke through the clouds and the evening unfolded, clean and refreshed. I looked back at the island in my rear view mirror and thought of how it must have looked centuries ago when there was no bridge, no highway and no ferris wheel.
The land is sacred. These words are at the core of your being. The land is our mother, the rivers our blood. Take our land away and we die. That is, the Indian in us dies. — Mary Brave Bird
