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Show by ALAN ROSS Phntns b) Randy Jamski v - ' . - - -' ; i . - r. ' - ". ' s iv,- . t -. , . m' , . . "J f v A " ' " ' " ' A Childhood Dreatw Lives nsr the Place of the Moonlight Spring I if1" itlri-i'fililWwmnMi n.ii ,,.. ,ma , ,j Twelve miles west of the staggering red sandstone monoliths known as Monument Valley, on the southern Utah border, stands a quiet piece ot history that is no less an icon than its neighboring neigh-boring stone slab brothers the Oljato Trading Post, an 80-year-old rustic outpost of local commerce and barter. It remains one of the last original institutions insti-tutions of its kind in the Navajo Nation. Working inside a veritable museum-cum-general store alongside her 8-year-old granddaughter, Kiersten, is Evelyn Yazzie Jensen, the trader trad-er proprietor of Oljato. Warm smiles from both greet an entering customer, cus-tomer, who scans a store stocked with an array of merchandise, from food perishables to auto parts. Lively dialogue in their collective native tongue is exchanged between the trader and the man. A double hamburger ham-burger and a cola to go soon have him on his way. For Jensen, H", born in Black Mesa, Ariz., life at Oljato is living out a dream, one she has earned since childhood when she first visited the Tsegi (pronounced (pro-nounced sav-yee) Trading Post armed with her first-ever hand-woven rug. "1 think the trader felt sorry for me," she laughs. "The rug wasn t really very fancy and it probably had crooked edges. I don't remember if it was S8 or Si 2 he gave me for my rug, but I never saw so much money: I folded it up and put it in a baking powder jar. Even.' once in a while I would look in it to make sure it was still there. One day my mother asked me, What are you saving your money for?' I said. Well, maybe the next time we run out of groceries, it'll help buy us some food.'" Jensen's comment to her mother that day long ago wasn't patronizing. A vivid and indelible impression had been etched on youngster when, growing up, the family now and " .u .....1J cc. I She recalls how at those , I'- jVf' times her mother would One of Jensen's kgs ghs furry welcome. gather up a rug she had just woven, jump on a horse, then ride 12 miles to the highway, where she would catch a ride to town. At the trading post she would sell her rug, buy groceries, then hitchhike back to where she had left the horse tied up by the highway, before riding the final 12 miles on horseback horse-back to the family hogan la usually earth-covered Navajo dwelling). "Even to this day, sometimes I will be riding my horse and I will think of those days," says Jensen, shaking her head. "I will think what had to be in my mother's mind when she knew we were out of food and would say; 'Well, (I've) got to saddle up the horse and go. " Carrying on custom A daughter of the trading post's former proprietors approached Jensen in the early 1990s about leasing the little store. (Owned by the Navajo Nation, the trading post can never be purchased outright by any prospective "buyer.") At the time, Jensen was working in a bank in nearby Kayenta and was open to a lifestyle change. But before officially offi-cially taking over, she had to appear before a council that had to give consent. Finally, on Dec. 1, 1991, Jensen was named its new manager, manag-er, keeping alive a longstanding line of traders dating back to 1921. Back then, the site was considered desirable in this vastly remote region for its proximity to water. cm Page 6 American Profile |