By Tim Giago
I got a call from my friend Justin Carlyle nearly 7 years ago. Justin is the son of Rapid City’s former mayor Keith Carlyle, and he is a guy who sells real estate. I had mentioned in passing that I was looking for a house.
Like all real estate salesmen these days, Justin sent me photos of several houses by email. I saw one that attracted me so my wife and I met Justin to check it out. She fell in love with it.
It was in a quiet, older neighborhood in West Rapid. We bought the house and on a warm Saturday morning in August of 2012 we moved in. It was only later that I thought about the neighbors and their thoughts about us moving into the neighborhood. My moving crew consisted of obvious Lakota men and women hauling furniture and using a two-wheeler to unload boxes.
My thoughts harkened back to 1983 when I moved into a house in Martin, South Dakota. My cousins Warnie and Gene Giago, plus Dusty LeBeau, all Lakota men with braided hair, driving a truck from the Arrow Factory in Wanbli, were my primary movers. We chuckled about all of the curtains and venetian blinds moving back and forth in the neighborhood as we unloaded the truck. The popular thoughts in those days was, “There goes the neighborhood.”
I couldn’t help but wonder how my new neighbors in West Rapid City felt about a Native American family moving into their quiet and peaceful neighborhood. I soon discovered that one neighbor, Loren Kambestad, was a champion long distance runner who had won many championships while running track in South Dakota. In the process he had run many races against one of the great Lakota runners, Jeff Turning Heart, and they had become fast friends.
Loren passed away not too long after we moved into his neighborhood. He turned out to be a great neighbor and good friend. On snowy days it was not uncommon to see Loren shoveling snow from our driveway and sidewalks. His death was sudden and unexpected. A couple of weeks ago our next door neighbor, Phyllis, passed away. She and her husband Darrell turned out to be wonderful neighbors and they welcomed us openly when we first moved in.
All of our neighbors in Martin opened their hearts to us not long after we moved into their neighborhoods. And we thoroughly enjoyed the many years we lived in Martin building a business.
Our new neighborhood is still a quiet and peaceful place. We stop and chat with our neighbors whenever we see them out in their yards and one of them even offered to mow our lawn if we needed it. It seems to be a little lonely and even solemn since the loss of Loren and Phyllis.
At Loren’s funeral Jeff Turning Heart gave a eulogy to his friend about how they had stayed in touch and communicated for many years after their running days were over. “He was my Kola,” Turning Heart said, and that is the way we feel about all of the people in our neighborhood. They are our Kolas, our “friends.”
(Contact Tim Giago at najournalist1@gmail.com)
