Chief Sagola's Tomb

Chief Sagola's Tomb

Chapter 1 A Bridge to Somewhere

I'd spent the day checking for migratory bird use of bridges and culverts along M-41. I'd been on this section of highway more than a dozen times in the past on my way to conducting surveys of wetland mitigation sites. One thing that working for the Michigan Department of Transportation meant for someone like me with statewide responsibilities was a lot of travel. I knew I was approaching a bridge over a rail line, the only one in the county, so it was unique and memorable.

I slowed as the bridge appeared and prepared to take the small dirt road I knew was there. Once on the bridge, I saw a small wooden sign attached to a tree, the white crude letters read 'Chief Sagola's Tomb,' the lettering old and faded. I didn't remember having ever seen it before. Pulling onto the dirt road, I found it ended a little more than a hundred feet away near the railroad tracks. There were no fresh tire tracks, suggesting it wasn't used very often.

Opening the door of the van, I stepped out, and stretched. It felt good to be out of the vehicle again. I picked up my hard hat, binoculars, and data logger and started walking along the tracks to go under the bridge. I saw the bridge was perched between two hard rock outcrops that had been enlarged by the railroad to accommodate the tracks when the line had been built in the 1850s. The tops of the rails gleamed in the sunlight showing the line was being used.

Inspecting the steel girders, I found an Eastern Phoebe nest on one support and a mud nest of an American Robin on another. I leaned back against the rock ledge and started inputting the data. I felt the space behind me give and immediately attempted to regain my balance. I failed and found myself in a... well... I didn't know... a crevice.

I struggled to stand and as I did the space seemed to grow larger. Once up I was confused, thinking I must have turned myself around as the light had disappeared. It was shaded under the bridge, but it certainly wasn't pitch black.

Turning around I found my original path blocked. I felt fear fill me as confusion engulfed me. My heart rate shot upward as I used my hands to explored the hard rock. I couldn't see a hint of light anywhere. It was completely dark, as if I were in a cave. I stood for a minute and composed myself. Then I remembered the small penlight flashlight I used for inspecting nest contents was in my breast pocket. I pulled it out, turned it on, and looked about.

The flashlight didn't provide a lot of light, but as my eyes adjusted, I started to pick out details. None of them served to provide me any comfort and surely not something that calmed me. I searched for some indication of an opening and found none. I turned around and started down the passage way, my hard hat hitting the low ceiling with each step, my shoulders brushing against the sides. I'd gone about twenty feet when the room opened up into a larger space. I shined the light around and noted only an empty wooden bench with a wooden box sitting on it, petroglyphs on the wall behind it.

The box had writing on the sides and ends indicating it had once contained dynamite. I realized as I stood there the space wasn't like a cave—I'd been in those before. Caves were damp and cold, this space was comfortable and dry. The space certainly didn't have a musty odor.

Taking a deep breath, I'd seen petroglyphs before and knew such markings were ancient. I realized this space was known to Native Americans well before the arrival of European settlers. My hands were still trembling, and I took another breath to calm myself. I told myself if I'd gotten in, I would find my way out. I was thankful I'd put fresh batteries into my penlight the day before.

Stepping to the bench, I shined the flashlight at the box and found the lid was on tight, but there was no indication of its being nailed on. I placed the penlight into my mouth and used both hands to remove the lid to reveal the inside of the box. Inside was a large yellowed envelope made of heavy paper amid cedar shavings. The aromatic cedar filled the air. Picking up the envelope I opened the flap and saw what appeared to be a single photograph. I suspected it would be the image of the person the tomb was named for: Chief Sagola.

Pulling the photograph out, I was completely dumbfounded. It wasn't of a man, it was of a young woman in long black braids. I inspected the back of the photograph to see if anything were written on it. There was nothing. Turning the photograph over, I studied the image. She wore a stoic expression, like those you see of most people taken during that time period. I tried to imagine what she would look like with a smile, and found myself smiling. She would be quite pretty.

I started to push the photograph back into the envelope and felt it meet resistance. I pulled it out and opened the envelope wider. There was a smaller slip of paper I hadn't noticed. I pulled it out and found it was a simple note: She will be found when this is found.

I ran the words over in my mind and decided it didn't make sense. Even if the photograph had been taken seventy years ago, there would be no way to trace the girl in the photograph. If it had been left for someone, they hadn't found it. I pushed the note and photograph back into the envelope wondering what I should do with it.

Well, you aren't going to do anything with it until you find a way out. In fact, you and she could spend eternity together if you don't.

I decided to turn off the flashlight as I thought about what to do next. It was pitch black again and I strained to hear or feel something. Perhaps a hint of light, or air movement. I'd stood still for a minute and thought I saw a hint of light and started toward it.

I felt the pain as I rubbed my bared head. My hard hat lay on the ground a few feet away with a crack in it. I looked around from my vantage point on the ground. A large chunk of rock and a yellow envelope sat near me. I sat up slowly and focused my eyes. I was under the bridge. It took my eyes several seconds to adjust to the bright light. I placed the hard hat on my head and found it out of adjustment. It had done its job, even though I'd been knocked down.

Squinting as I stood, I heard a diesel horn. A train was approaching. I saw my data logger on the ground at the edge of the ballast and picked it up. I got to the van, opened the door, slid onto the seat, and placed the data logger and yellow envelope on the passenger seat. I looked out as the train passed, the engineer giving a wave.

I glanced at my watch, then checked the data logger time stamp. There was an eleven-minute difference, which shouldn't have been as my watch had showed the same time as the logger that morning. I could only guess I'd somehow messed it up while trying to check the time earlier.

Looking at the envelope again, I found it contained the photograph. Had I found it before the rock hit me? I must have, as there was no other logical explanation. If I hadn't looked at it then how could I have remembered it.

After the train had passed, I walked back under the bridge to inspect the rock on the ground. It had fallen from above where I'd been standing. When I checked for an opening in the rock face, I found none. I walked back to the van feeling as if I were missing something. No matter, I had to get going as it was nearing time for me to check into my hotel room in Baraga. Then, I would go for dinner and afterward relax outside where I could check for birds on Keweenaw Bay.

But, the memory of the tomb had seemed so real and the envelope had to have been with the chunk of rock that had fallen from the rock face.

I'd planned on eating at the hotel restaurant, but it was closed. There was the casino in Baraga, or I could drive into L'Anse, five miles distant. I'd done enough driving for the day and decided the casino restaurant was closer. I didn't like the idea of parking an MDOT vehicle there, but there weren't a lot of places to eat. I decided to take my chances.

I parked as close to the restaurant doors as I could, and walked in. The casino parking lot wasn't but a quarter full, so the van stood out more than I wanted it to. I walked inside and the hostess greeted me warmly, and immediately took me to a table. There were only three occupied tables as business was slow. It took but a minute before a waitress appeared. I was looking out the window at the time, and when I turned to look at her, I couldn't believe my eyes.

She was holding out a menu, a smile on her face. I sat looking, not moving. "Sir, are you alright?"

I pulled myself together, sure I was hallucinating. "Yes, sorry. I'm kind of lost in my thoughts."

She went over the daily special after setting a cold glass of water on the table. I decided the special sounded good and placed my order. I was surprised when she lingered.

"Have we met before? You look familiar."

I laughed. "You know, that should be my line."

She blushed. "Funny, but you do look familiar."

"I'm from down state and I've never been in here before. But, I need to ask you a question if you have a minute."

"Okay. We're not busy as you can see. Let me put your order in, and I'll be right back."

I watched as she walked away. She was trim and slim, her long, braided black hair, hung down her back. The resemblance was striking, but maybe that knock on the skull had scrambled more than I wanted to admit.

When she returned, she was smiling as she stopped at my table.

"Okay, what's your question. I don't give out my phone number."

"What do you know about Chief Sagola's tomb?"

Her smile disappeared. "How do you know about that?"

"I saw the sign at the M-41 railroad bridge this morning that said it was there."

"That's impossible," her face firm.

"How can it be impossible if I saw it this morning?"

"That sign was removed by my family members more than sixty years ago, and has never been replaced."

There was a long pause. Then I decided to ask. "I have a photograph in my vehicle you may be interested in seeing. I can go and get it."

"What good would that do?"

"I don't know. I'll let you decide if its meaningful, or not."

"I guess it won't hurt," she said frowning.

I got up from my chair. "Be right back."

I walked in and sat down, placing the envelope on the table. She walked from the one of the occupied tables to rejoin me. I'd decided not to say anything until she looked at the photograph. I pulled it out of the envelope and laid it on the table. I heard her gasp.

"That... that's got to be my great grandmother. Our oral history says she was photographed, but we have never seen it.

"Oral history?"

"Yes, it came to us from my grandmother. We have since recorded what she has told us, so there is a written record. How did you come across this?"

"I'm afraid if I told you the truth, you'd think I was crazy, and call the police."

She took a chair across from me. "I won't, I promise. I can't. I look exactly like her. You see that, don't you?"

"Yes. When I first saw you, that was the first thing that came into my mind."

I watched as she wrung her hands. "Would you be willing to meet my parents? If you will, I'm going to take the rest of the evening off."

"If you'd like me to. But, I can't take a state vehicle and use it for personal business. I would have to leave it at the hotel, and have you drive me."

"Not a problem. It looks like your order is up. Let me get it, and I'll tell them I need the evening off."

I ate my meal, not in haste, but I didn't dawdle. I found my waitress especially attentive and I was sure it wasn't entirely due to having but a few people at tables. I paid my bill and left a sizeable tip.

"You didn't need to leave that large of a tip."

"Why not? The service was the best I've gotten in a long time."

I drove the van back to the hotel as she followed me in her car. I got into the passenger seat and it didn't take but a few minutes before we went off the main highway to a small house on a side street of Baraga. It had been a quiet ride, both of us in our own thoughts. I followed her to the front door, and then as we stepped onto the porch, we looked at one another.

She laughed. "I know your name from your credit card, but you don't know mine. I'm Dawn Morningstar."

"Pleased to meet you. It's such a pretty name. It fits you well."

We stepped inside the living room where I saw her parents were sitting. The look of surprise on their faces showed they weren't expecting to see a man with their daughter. I grasped the yellow envelope in my hand firmly as if it were a life ring.

Her father rose with a smile. "An unexpected guest. Please. I'm John Morningstar, and this is my wife Nancy."

"Dad and Mom, this is Daniel Thorn, he works for MDOT. We met while I was working and found we have something we share in common. It also involves our family, so I invited him to come and meet you."

I saw the look of puzzlement on her mother's face. "What would we have in common with someone working for the highway people?"

"He asked me about Chief Sagola's tomb."

I watched as her parents traded glances. Then her father motioned to the sofa.

I sat down and Dawn sat next to me. She explained what had happened at the restaurant. I didn't wait to be asked to show the photograph. I took it out of the envelope, and handed it to her father. He studied it, looked at his daughter, and handed the photograph to his wife. She looked at it and murmured something in words I didn't recognize.

"So, you believe you have been inside the chief's tomb?"

"Sir, I don't know. What I remember for sure was walking under the bridge, waking up on the ground with a cracked hard hat, an aching head, a large rock, and this envelope. I didn't see any evidence of an opening in the rock along the railroad tracks. I was hoping perhaps someone could tell me more about what I found."

"The story we have been told comes from my grandmother. She lived to an old age and told us her sister was waiting to be married to the chief. He never showed and no one knew what happened to him. She was an identical twin, something that was very rare. The chief was very respected, and when a natural cave was found the clan members decided to dedicate the cave to his spirit, as it had the markings of the early people painted on the rocks. A photograph of his intended bride was placed into the tomb, so his spirit would find it someday, and complete their life together."

Dawn looked at her mother. "So, that is why Great Aunt Lucy never married. She was spoken for."

"Yes, she believed her spirit would be satisfied someday."

"Was there ever mention of a message being left with the picture? I mean a written message?"

Her father thought for a few moments. "I would have to look at the written stories to know for sure. Our people did not know how to read or write in that generation. But, it seems to me there was mention that the person who took the photograph was asked to write on paper some words."

I took the piece of paper out of the envelope and handed it to Dawn. She read it and looked at me, her eyes wide.

"Daniel, this note could apply to any time. Even now, today."

"Yes, that was my impression."

She handed the note to her father and watched as he read it and handed it to her mother. Her mother looked at her. "We have called this genetic memory, this has been passed down to you over generations."

Dawn sat silent, wringing her hands. Then she looked at me. "I think I should get you back to your hotel."

Chapter 2 Sorting Things Out

We bade her parents goodbye and left. The ride back was as silent as the ride there had been. I didn't believe in the kinds of explanations that came into my mind. I kept looking for logical answers for what I'd experienced. The only thing that seemed real was the photograph, and Dawn. We pulled into the parking lot and I prepared to get out. I wasn't sure of what to say, or do at this point. I punted.

"Do you want to come up to my room for a few minutes before you go home?"

She looked at me, her lips set firm. "I don't know. This feels awkward."

"If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way. I haven't ever offered to take a girl I just met to my hotel room. You're the first."

She smiled. "That's a precedent I hope you won't repeat if I say yes."

"Look, maybe it's not a good idea. I'm here for two nights before I head back. I think maybe we both have a lot to think about."

"Daniel, I don't know why. But, I trust you. It's myself I don't trust. I've never opened up to a guy the way I'd done with you. Can we revisit this tomorrow? I want to see you again."

"Yes, of course. Dawn, I understand, this is just plain weird. What I do know is I want to know more about you. I think I could talk with you all night, and that wouldn't serve either of us very well given we have to work."

"I don't work tomorrow night. If you call me after you finish for the day, I'll pick you up, and we can go to L'Anse for supper. Here's my phone number."

She handed me a piece of paper after she wrote the number down. I took it and saw her smile.

"I know. I told you I don't give my phone number out."

I grinned. "I hope this isn't a precedent you'll regret."

She frowned. "Very funny."

I got out and watched as she drove off. What a day! My head was still sore as I walked into the lobby and pressed the elevator button. It was getting late and I decided to take a shower, and then go to bed expecting I wouldn't sleep well. After my shower, I walked into the room and sat down on the bed looking out at Keweenaw Bay. Since the very first time I'd worked in the area, I'd been attracted to it. It had a natural beauty and a long history of human occupation that appealed to me. I always looked forward to returning. Now, I wondered if there were more to it than that.

***

I picked up breakfast in the only fast food place in L'Anse, headed south, then west on the major highway. I reached the first wetland mitigation site, and spent the next three hours making wildlife observations. Dawn kept coming into my mind, her smile and dark eyes seemed to be everywhere. The next site was over sixty miles away and I knew there was a place where I could pick up a sandwich and drink. Nothing fancy, but that wasn't unusual for me when I worked. Most would call it junk food, but I did try to find something fresh to eat when I could.

At the end of the day, I'd covered almost three hundred miles, stopping once, to chat with an MDOT crew working on one of the bridges I stopped to inspect. After I parked the van in the hotel parking lot, I called Dawn and told her I would be waiting. She sounded cheerful, making me feel better, as I was wondering what her mood would be like.

She pulled into the parking lot and gave me a wave and friendly smile. I got into the passenger seat feeling not the least bit awkward, even though this was only the second time we would spend time together.

"Hi," she said cheerily.

"Hi, thanks for picking me up. Are you hungry? I'm hungry as a bear."

She chuckled. "I'm hungry enough, but not that hungry. You aren't thinking of paying for my meal are you?"

"I hadn't given it any thought. Why? Would that make a difference?"

"Well, you know there aren't many options. We can go to the one fast food place in town, or to one of the two restaurants. One of them is fancy, the other casual. And no, I don't want to eat at the casino. I have enough of that place every day."

"I ate at the fast food place this morning for breakfast, so that doesn't sound attractive to me. One of the restaurants sounds better. Since I get reimbursed for my meal paying for yours isn't a problem. Your choice, you probably know what's on the menu at each of them, so pick which sounds better."