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Shortly after writing my first few columns at the Cherokee Scout, I received an invitation to speak to a western North Carolina ladies’ group, complimented that any group would be interested in hearing what I have to say about anything.
Growing up playing in garage bands, hosting a live television show selling knives on a shopping channel and with the help of a few Dale Carnegie courses, I have no fear of talking in front of a group. One friend has even termed it that I have never met a microphone that I didn’t like.
I noted after I accepted the invitation that my contact had not asked me what I would like to speak about. Public speaking classes say it is important to direct your talk to a subject of interest to your audience. I had been spending time researching Cherokee history and their interactions with the white man (usually to the Cherokee’s disadvantage). I selected that as my topic.
As a Cherokee County native I thought I had a reasonable grasp of what had happened here – but the more I dig the more I discover some of my assumptions were wrong, passed along by historians who did little original research but relied on what someone else wrote incorrectly, earlier.
I spent Sunday getting my notes in order, testing my talk on my wife, who began nodding off halfway through. When I concluded she told me it needed work, and to tighten it up. A few hours I did a more concise repeat test – and she did say it was better. This time she did not nod off until almost to the end.
I arrived at the meeting in time for my free sandwich, drink and cookie, the compensation for the speaking engagement.
The leader continued in an excited tone about the organization’s plans to support Constitution Week, displaying posters and cards they would be placing around the area to support the celebration. Thus encouraged with their obvious interest in the Constitution, I decided to add a few extra words to my talk about the Cherokee.
I started asking the group of 13 ladies how many were native to western North Carolina. Two raised their hands. I reminded them that we were all at that moment standing on land that, in my opinion, had been stolen from the Cherokee by the U.S. government.
As my talk rambled on about treaties, broken treaties, political machinations, lies and intrigue, I came to the signing of the New Echota treaty, the one giving the green light to Cherokee removal, and how, one month after the treaty was ratified, Gen. John E. Wool was in Cherokee County with troops, his stated purpose to established forts (one of which was Fort Butler in what is now Murphy) and to preserve the peace.
What that actually meant was Wool was here with 1,000 troops in case things went bad and the resistance to removal turned to shooting, as had occurred with the recent Second Seminole War and a Creek uprising.
Wool arrested missionary the Rev. Evan Jones, not releasing him until Jones agreed, with an assistant, to help Wool in the disarming of the Cherokee. That was one of the reasons there was no armed resistance to the Cherokee Removal. The U.S. Army made sure the Cherokee had little means to resist.
At this point in my talk, as we were obviously a Constitution-oriented group, I recited the First Amendment. Chad Skaggs in my journalism law class at Georgia State started every test or quiz with that requirement, because so much journalism law begins with that amendment. To wit: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
I explained how I felt it important that we hold those words sacred and involatile, and recently police invaded a newspaper for a story they had not yet ran as evidence that our Constitution is always under threat and we should be ever vigilant against erosion of those rights. I added that every one of the Bill of Rights guarantees personal freedoms.
Everyone was nodding and, thus inspired, as our county is a gun sanctuary county, I went into the Second Amendment. A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
I added that the Supreme Court’s Heller decision upheld that the Second Amendment applied to personal ownership of firearms, and that if one claims that the right “of the people” does not imply just that, then we endanger the sacrosanct words of the First Amendment. Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black opined, “No law means no law.”
The group leader interrupted me. “You should know that our organization is apolitical.”
“I am, too,” I replied. “I’m only talking about the United States Constitution.”
I did a quick survey of the faces, and their expressions told me that despite my reasoning some of those in attendance were not in agreement with analysis of the Constitution, their pledges and ritual notwithstanding. I felt it best to rush through the Trail of Tears section of my talk and make my exit.
I may rethink speaking engagements.
Bruce Voyles’ local history column runs every other week in the Cherokee Scout. Email him at RoadsLessTraveled@cherokeescout.com.