Murphy – More than 60 bikers rolled through town Friday in a noisy but solemn procession to commemorate the Trail of Tears for the 28th year.
The bikers started in Cherokee with the intent of following the actual Trail of Tears across the country. The group undertakes this journey every year to acknowledge the grave effects of the 1830 Indian Removal Act, which forced 16,000 thousand Native Americans to leave their ancestral homes and march all the way to Oklahoma. More than 4,000 died along the way.
Bobby Wheat, the ride line coordinator for the event, lost his maternal grandfather on the trail.
“This ride is saying that we recognize what happened,” he said. “It’s sort of an apology and a way to make amends.”
Wheat wasn’t alone among the riders who experienced personal losses on the trail. Michael Hutton was hard to miss among the clusters of motorcycles who stopped at the Murphy BP to refuel, as his bike boasts an enormous Captain America shield over the handlebars.
His great-great grandmother survived the trail only because after both of her parents died, a Christian family in Kentucky adopted her. Michael’s brother, Louis, represented the Hutton family each year until 2017. He was killed while traveling from Huntsville, Ala., to Cherokee.
“There are still questions about his death,” Wheat said. “He did go off the road, but we don’t know why.”
Hutton said his brother was 73 years old and in poor health.
“A lot of us tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted because he had done it for so many years. He was just so loyal to it,” Hutton said. He rides as Captain America in order to “both commemorate my ancestry, but also to honor my brother’s life.”
The flag bearer, Rudy Rainwater, a decedent of Geronimo, is on his 28th ride, making him the only member of these bikers to have ridden the full five days all 28 years. He also has a personal attachment to the trail.
Rainwater’s parents were raised in what was then called Indian Nation before becoming Oklahoma after his ancestors were forced to walk the trail from Cherokee. His family members survived the trail but died shortly after arrival.
Rainwater and his 12 siblings were separated when the Colorado Bureau of Indian Affairs placed them in orphanages after their parents’ death. Rainwater was 5 years old at the time. He said he was able to reunite the family once he became an adult.
“I found them on Facebook,” Rainwater said. “I was adopted, but most of them stayed in state care until they turned 18.”
When asked how he feels about his fractured family, he smiled.
“The Great Spirit has a reason for everything,” Rainwater said.
He added that while serving in Vietnam, he learned of a new highway being built from Chattanooga to Huntsville and told himself, “When I get home, I’m going to ride my motorcycle on that highway.” Twenty years later, he was among the honorees who helped name that highway The Trail of Tears Corridor.
Ike Moore is resident of the Alabama Tennessee Trail of Tears Corridor Association, the organization that puts this ride on. This is Moore’s 17th year to make the trip.
Moore said he got involved because, “I remember studying about the Indian Removal Act in Grammar school.” His teacher made an impression when she told them, “Boys and girls, this would be just like if you were at home having dinner tonight and a bunch of soldiers showed up and made you leave your home, you couldn’t take a backpack or nothing with you. You just had to leave.”
Moore added, “That kind of struck home with me, that we did those people that way.”
Moore’s daughter is riding alongside him for her first Trail of Tears ride. Belinda McMichael said, “I am just so glad to ride partner with him this year.”
She added that when the group rolled out of Cherokee this morning, “it was just somber, just hearing their stories and thinking about the path they all had to take.”
Wheat said he is in charge of, “lining everybody up and putting them in position all the way to Oklahoma.” This is Wheat’s second year, and he said the ride means a great deal to him.
His maternal grandfather “was a Choctaw, and when I learned in school about the Removal Act, it was sad to see what our government did.” He said the ride is to “say that we recognize what happened and offer an apology, a sort of amends to what occurred.”
The organization’s chairman of the board, Kevan Hutto, said he rides because his great grandfather was on the actual trail. “He walked this trail so this ride, for me, is a remembrance of the atrocities that they went through.”
Charlie Lowe of Cincinnati has ridden the trail for 21 years.
“My great, great grandmother died on the trail.” He said, and the family was never able to retrieve her bones. “She was buried somewhere between Chattanooga and Alabama. I really don’t know where at.”
He says he’s researched it but there were no formal records kept of those who died along the trail. Lowe gets emotional when he says, “This ride is an honor to them.”
“To me, it’s more than a ride of awareness. We have a lot in our history of renegades who never left and we don’t know a lot about them. So I try to learn so I can pass it down to my son and grandchildren,” Lowe said.
Mark and his wife, Fran Fortson, ride the trail to honor Fran’s Choctaw heritage. She rides on the same bike, saying, “I would never ride alone.”
The Fortsons enjoy catching up with friends they’ve made through the years. Mark said they “usually sit in Chattanooga for several hours to catch up with the riders,” but this year they decided to join.
Not all those remembering the Trail of Tears are found in the parking lot on motorcycles. Sarah Ledford, the BP manager, said she loves that the bikers stop there for gas.
“I’m Cherokee,” she said proudly. “These riders bring in good energy; they make my heart smile.”