Project is destroying special, sacred spot

I have been working on a story about an 89-year-old Kalispel Indian woman who remembers the last, sacred time giant salmon leaped the roaring waters of Kettle Falls on the Columbia River. This was before the blasting of the landscape, which created Grand Coulee Dam, silenced not only the river and its abundant life, but tore the very fabric of numerous indigenous cultures who had drawn both physical and spiritual sustenance from its richly created existence. Such losses are difficult to fully grasp.

Then yesterday I experienced a small taste of such arrogant destruction along Highway 200 driving east through Trestle Creek and Kalispel aboriginal homeland. For 34 years and with tremendous respect, I have enjoyed that distinctively steep, mountainous curve of highway with its rocky outcrop and towering Ponderosa pines; appreciating not only the inherent power and scenic beauty of the native rocks and trees, but the landscape’s insistence that I slow down and drive with care. I was shocked to find that now it was being cut, drilled, leveled and destroyed by men with machines. Like Kettle Falls, there is only one explanation: to enhance commerce. After all, it’s a tricky, curvy hill for the 18-wheelers that have been increasing in number and speed traveling along this highway. I keep praying that someday we’ll seek higher values than just making money. Until then, the loss of this special place only reveals the muscle the white man continues to flex in ignorance when it comes to everything alive and beautiful in nature.

JANE FRITZ

Sandpoint