Gordon Nez

When I was in 4th grade, Mrs. Freeman taught us what "orphan" meant, and she explained "adoption."  Then and there I thought, "When I'm grown up, I'll find a kid with no mom or dad and I'll adopt them."

When the time came along to actually do that, it felt normal and OK.  I had no vision of how that would unfold for us--for the child or for our family--because there were too many unknowns, but forward we went.

Mrs. Maldonado, the welfare worker in Gallup, New Mexico, who helped us get Jake, had watched him since he was a baby.  He had been taken in by a zealous woman who saw herself as a saver of babies--she had eleven in one trailer, but stayed in a neighboring trailer.  When welfare workers finally showed up, Jake was six months old and among the most severely malnourished.  As Mrs. Maldonado rushed him to the hospital, she kept looking over at him to see if he was still alive.  The doctor who treated him told her, "This baby has a will to live."

Palos Verdes Marathon, 1978

We imagined him growing up, living a stable life, and going back to the Reservation to teach or do some sort of social work. Actually, I don't think that could have happened under the best of circumstances.  Not only would he be uncomfortable, but Reservation people would never have embraced this kid with his biligana lifestyle.

When he was still in elementary school he told me, looking at his hands, "I think I'm turning white."  I listened to his explanation and said, "Well, I hope not.  We told the welfare people we wanted a brown Navajo, so we hope you stay that way."

In any case,  he was always a big help to us, being able to figure things out, fix things, solve problems.  In recent years here in Mendon when Roger wanted a sidekick to work with him on his 57' Chevy he said, "You know who I wish would come and help me? Jake."

He also has had a spiritual sense.  When he was homeless in Grand Junction, he said he always kept a Book of Mormon with him in his backpack, wrapped in plastic.  He said his day would always go better

if he had it with him.  Once when a homeless friend saw it he chided him.  "Why carry around that book when you drink?"  Jake told him, "Just because I can't live it doesn't mean it isn't true."

Jake has a good sense of humor.  One of my favorite stories happened when he was working on dry wall or something in a chapel.  Some other guys showed up to do electrical and in making conversation with them Jake said, "Ya know, this kind of work is really hard on a guy.  When I first started, I was tall and I was white!"