Volume 16 Number 2
January 1977

Kent R. Brown

IN THE FALL and winter of 1838-1839, the United States government uprooted the Cherokee people from their ancient homelands in the Allegheny Mountains and drove them westward. Confused and ill prepared for the arduous journey which lasted almost a year, nearly 5,000 men, women and children perished from the ravages of disease, hunger and exposure. This forced migration and the ensuing problems of relocation provide the background tapestry for The Trail of Tears, an outdoor drama sponsored each summer since 1969 in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, by the Cherokee National Historical Society.

The production, written by Dr. Kermit H. Hunter and incorporating the talents of 90 actors, dancers, and technicians, illustrates many of the problems which emerge from the collaboration between the pressures of historical fact and the necessities of dramatic fiction.

"We were interested in creating a drama which would foster better understanding among Indians and non-Indians alike," states Martin Hagerstrand, producer of the play and Executive Vice President of the Historical Society. "We wanted to highlight aspects of the unique Cherokee heritage and the role they played in bringing Oklahoma into statehood. Dr. Hunter’s previous drama on the Cherokee people, Unto These Hills, which treats the period from 1800 up to the time of removal in 1838, made him an excellent choice for this newer project."

The process of investigating the past becomes a tenuous one for the researcher-playwright, for history seldom reveals the organic structure necessary for dramatic continuity. The preparation becomes even more complex when the major resource, the people themselves, have long ago lost close touch with their ethnic roots. "One of the obstacles in researching the Cherokee has always been the absence of recorded accounts of the evolution of the Cherokee Nation," comments Hunter, Dean of the Meadows School of the Arts at Southern Methodist University. "They did record medical formulas, incantations and love songs in the language that Sequoyah had invented. These were kept from family to family, usually hidden away in glass jars or tobacco tins to protect them from raiding bands during the Civil War. But then they were often forgotten. There is now a large collection in the Library of Congress, and there has been a movement to collect more of the manuscripts. They are still hidden away in the hills of Oklahoma. But these were isolated fragments. No official, considered history of the Cherokee people, compiled by their own leaders, existed.

"Even oral history techniques," continues Hunter, "were unusable in this instance, because the recollections of Indian leaders go back only 35 or 40 years. And I have discovered that even the Cherokee themselves do not know what the dances or costumes were like 100 years ago. I hear them talk of authentic Cherokee music, but there was actually no such thing. And almost every Indian tribe in America had an Eagle Dance, yet each points with pride to the uniqueness of his Eagle Dance. But Eagle Dances performed by the Cherokee, the Sioux, or the Seneca are almost exactly the same. Each one is a shuffling, stomping, static kind of presentation which is fine for history but is undramatic material for the theatre."

While much of the material uncovered by Hunter does not appear in the production, a knowledge of Cherokee history is necessary to identify the alterations in the script. Very briefly, Cherokee history covers—in the 70-year span of the play—the time from the control of 40,000 acres in the southern Allegheny Mountains, and their subsequent loss, to the statehood of Oklahoma. In between came the moves from the Alleghenies to Arkansas (including the infamous march), treaties and broken treaties, the Civil War and its strife on all peoples, and the final settling in Oklahoma Territory.

In order to create the drama, Hunter had to shape his environment by sketching characters, in some instances, which would add dramatic consistency and internal tension to the play. "I discovered some time ago," he says, "that you are always in trouble if you take an historical character and have him talking and dreaming and being a human being. So you have to be careful about what you say. The smartest thing to do is to select fictional characters and place them against the background of history. And that is what we did here. Sequoyah, of course, is an historical figure, but we treated him lightly by putting him within the framework of the overall sweep of the project, for he was not the center of focus. The president of the United States at that time, after resettlement, was James K. Polk, and we treated him very lightly because he is an incidental character.

"The main body of the play and the resulting drama exists primarily because of the invention of fictional people, fictional in the sense that the particular person did not actually exist. But, in the context of the drama, that person represents instead an amalgamation of characters or thoughts which did, in fact, exist. We’ve learned to make these amalgamated characters out of various concepts we wanted to get into the play from the period. We are true to the historical tone and mood of history rather than to the specific historical character."

The script adheres to much that is historically accurate: Ross and Watie as prominent leaders, the migration, the new constitution, Sequoyah’s departure in the early 1840s, Polk’s granting of overdue reparations, the differences over the Civil War and the flowering of statehood. These events serve to provide the general framework of the drama, the key historical highpoints that must be in evidence if the spine of the Cherokee story is to be presented. The pulse of the story, however, and a major alteration of history is found in the creation of two central characters, Sarah and Dennis Bushyhead, who did not function in history as Hunter displays them in the play. The name Sarah was a common one at that time, and a woman of that name was mentioned in Hunter’s research, but she was not Watie’s niece, nor did she marry a Dennis Bushyhead. Jesse Bushyhead, the Indian leader mentioned in scene one, did have a son named Dennis, but he did not go on to become the most logical man to carry out the will of the Cherokee in Ross’s absence, as is suggested by the second act.

What exists, then, is an attempt, much like that of Romeo and Juliet, to bring together two people from opposing forces--Sarah from Watie’s western faction and Dennis from Ross’s eastern faction--and suggest, through their love and honesty, that the factions may find reconciliation in the younger generation. The adults may be caught up in the bitterness of old feuds and lingering hatreds, but the young people will reject the chains of discontent and will seek the foundations of a new life. The couple also allows for an identification point for a majority of the audience members, a family unit that grows and matures and then is cut down by extensions of a decision made by their leaders.

To provide an insight into the detail and scripting, a description of the last scene of the play follows. It takes place in Tahlequah on November 17, 1907. The old leaders are dead; only Sarah, now in her eighties, remains. The occasion is statehood day and she is attending with her grandson Dennis who delivers the key address. Recalling that the Cherokee have always believed the Great Spirit has destined them to do one great thing as a nation, Sarah wonders if the creation of Oklahoma will fulfill that destiny.

"There is no ending, there is only change," she says. "The Cherokee did not die in 1907, they were reborn. The red man is like a crimson thread running through the texture of this new state and it will remain there forever, adding color and beauty to the soul of Oklahoma. It was part of all our yesterdays, it was part of today and it will march down all the years of the future, like red flowers growing on the green bosom of Oklahoma." The rebirth is represented by the battle between the Death Dancer and the Red Phoenix Bird who, after succumbing to the powers of Death, rises from the ashes, reborn. Seeing the clarity of her vision, and at peace with herself, Sarah willingly dies in the knowledge that the Cherokee have risen from the ashes of disharmony into the unity of Oklahoma statehood.

The play is performed in an amphitheatre expressly designed to accommodate the spatial requirements of the production. Excavated into the earth itself, the complex was constructed at a cost of $500,000 in 1968 and seats 1,800 people, with no seat further than 80 feet from the stage. The stage is 40 feet deep and 150 feet wide, is semicircular in shape with two smaller 20’ by 25’ oblong revolving stages placed UL and UR. Two tunnels flank the stage and allow for entrances behind the tunnel walls as well as through the tunnels themselves. The major background setting is a high, sloping hillside, criss-crossed with several walking paths. A small plateau exists two-thirds the way up the slope, and a series of reflective screens of varying heights, upon which changing light patterns underscore the emotional moods of the play, crests the hill top. A masked platform stands behind the tallest screen to provide an acting area for the Death Dancer, pervading symbol of death and for the pageant a recurring symbol.

The major roles are usually played by professional calibre actors, many of whom are drama majors or drama instructors. The smaller roles are usually cast from local townspeople in the area who often work at commercial jobs during the day and then step into their parts in the evening. The production’s budget is close to $125,000 for the entire summer. Profits thus far have been virtually nonexistent. The salaries for the actors range from $50 for extras per week, with $35 alloted for rehearsal weeks, to $115 per week for principals. Raises are provided at the end of three and five years of consecutive association with the production.

"We are quite pleased with the benefits which have come from the production," comments Hagerstrand. "Many former cast members have gone to work in professional theatre, and several of our undergraduate and graduate students are active now in various forms of educational theatre. And for the dedicated drama and dance students, the play provides an opportunity to train for and practice the craft in a professional setting. The boy who dances the role of the Phoenix, for example, was a member of the dance chorus just three years ago. Improvement such as his is most gratifying. And much is to be gained, of course, from the experience of sustaining a role over a long period of time, and outdoor drama requires the student to explore vocal and movement dimensions quite different in scope from the requirements of indoor work. And for both Indian and non-Indian members of the cast, there is the excellent chance to work together and to get to know and better understand one another."

The entire project has been most successful. Since its opening performance in 1969, more than 175,000 people have seen the dramatization. While they have not seen a replication of history, an impossible task under any circumstance, they have been a part of the tone and mood of the history, of events and circumstances which logically could have existed. It is an honest play, dramatically presented for the purpose of restoring, preserving and perpetuating the dignity of the Cherokee Nation.