Post by Okwes on Jun 21, 2006 20:35:15 GMT -5
Man shares self on 500-mile run American Indian seeks peace after life
of struggle
<mailto:metro@modbee.com?subject=Man%20shares%20self%20on%20500-mile%20r\
un>
Last Updated: June 17, 2006, 05:20:43 AM PDT
www.modbee.com/local/story/12332846p-13064152c.html
RIPON — When you walk into the home of Bill Ramos, you enter a world
of peace and harmony.
The price of that peace came dearly, and it's etched on Ramos'
64-year-old face. Troubles carved those lines — troubles that could
bring a man to his knees.
Ramos lost most of his hearing during the Vietnam War. He said he has
been stabbed several times trying to break up gang fights while working
for a San Jose school district in campus supervision and gang
intervention.
He lost one of his daughters 24 years ago. The high school student was
missing for a month before her body was found in the foothills, he said.
Ramos lost his job after the school district said he was spending too
much time looking for her.
Later, his first marriage ended in divorce.
His troubles are written on his face, but they haven't dulled the look
of his eyes.
There is something about Ramos' eyes: They are almost transparent and
seem to see right through to the soul. They radiate peace.
Ramos will harbor no grudges, nor will he carry any for anyone else. He
calls himself a Chicano, even though he is a 10th generation Californio
from Los Angeles.
The path he has chosen is American Indian, after the way of his
ancestors. For almost 30 years, he has followed the Lakota way of a
sundancer.
He wants to be a healer; peace is his prescription.
"To heal, you can't be troubled," he said. "You have to be serene."
He puts a guest at ease by taking a leaf of sacred sage. He burns one
end, and while holding the ember, he begins moving the smoke all around
his visitor.
"The smoke is our prayers going to the Creator," he says. "It also
chases all the evil away."
When he recently performed the ceremony at a friend's home, he said, the
cat ran away.
Ramos had a ready explanation: "The cat had the evil spirit," and the
sage chased it from the home.
Ramos shares his American Indian ways annually with about 30 other
runners. They will gather June 24 for a sacred run, a 500-mile relay
from Tehachapi through the Mojave Desert, up Highway 395 and looping
back to the Sonora Pass.
It will end with a celebration and barbecue about 4 p.m. June 29 at the
McHenry Recreation Area along the Stanislaus River.
Ramos has been participating since the relays began as the First Sacred
Run in 1978, organized by American Indian Movement leader Dennis Banks.
The latest national run this year began on Alcatraz island and ended in
Washington, D.C.
The theme of the national and state run is the same: All life is sacred.
Ramos has a strategy for the runs and sticks to it even though it's hard
on his arthritic knees.
"I always run 10 to 15 miles at the beginning. Why do I run so far?" he
asks rhetorically.
"If I run that far, all the young bucks think, 'If the old man can do
it, I can, too.' So I never have to run more than once. It's actually
pretty smart."
Ramos' spiritual quest began just before his daughter's death. He sought
peace through an ordeal that requires fasting for four days and
suspending one's self from a tree on something like fishing wire and
hooks.
When the hooks tear, the flesh is scarred. Ramos shows his scars. It
looks like an eagle's talons have grabbed him.
He also shared one of his first visions. "When I fell from the tree, I
collapsed on the ground," Ramos said. "The grass spoke to me. It said
'Thank you for giving shade from the hot sun.'"
To Ramos, the life of all things connects people, plants and animals.
His spirit guide in his vision quest has been an eagle. That magnificent
bird has sometimes come to visit him in his yard. His daughter tried to
take a picture, but the photograph didn't show anything.
He invites anyone who wants to share his life and ways to be his friend.
They can join him on the run or at the end of the run at the barbecue.
One rule: Don't bring an angry spirit or a personal agenda.
He excused some would-be runners last year.
"They wanted to protest the war and cause trouble," he said. "I told
them I couldn't run with them."
It's not that he favors war, but he said that "now is not the time. The
troops need all our support."
of struggle
<mailto:metro@modbee.com?subject=Man%20shares%20self%20on%20500-mile%20r\
un>
Last Updated: June 17, 2006, 05:20:43 AM PDT
www.modbee.com/local/story/12332846p-13064152c.html
RIPON — When you walk into the home of Bill Ramos, you enter a world
of peace and harmony.
The price of that peace came dearly, and it's etched on Ramos'
64-year-old face. Troubles carved those lines — troubles that could
bring a man to his knees.
Ramos lost most of his hearing during the Vietnam War. He said he has
been stabbed several times trying to break up gang fights while working
for a San Jose school district in campus supervision and gang
intervention.
He lost one of his daughters 24 years ago. The high school student was
missing for a month before her body was found in the foothills, he said.
Ramos lost his job after the school district said he was spending too
much time looking for her.
Later, his first marriage ended in divorce.
His troubles are written on his face, but they haven't dulled the look
of his eyes.
There is something about Ramos' eyes: They are almost transparent and
seem to see right through to the soul. They radiate peace.
Ramos will harbor no grudges, nor will he carry any for anyone else. He
calls himself a Chicano, even though he is a 10th generation Californio
from Los Angeles.
The path he has chosen is American Indian, after the way of his
ancestors. For almost 30 years, he has followed the Lakota way of a
sundancer.
He wants to be a healer; peace is his prescription.
"To heal, you can't be troubled," he said. "You have to be serene."
He puts a guest at ease by taking a leaf of sacred sage. He burns one
end, and while holding the ember, he begins moving the smoke all around
his visitor.
"The smoke is our prayers going to the Creator," he says. "It also
chases all the evil away."
When he recently performed the ceremony at a friend's home, he said, the
cat ran away.
Ramos had a ready explanation: "The cat had the evil spirit," and the
sage chased it from the home.
Ramos shares his American Indian ways annually with about 30 other
runners. They will gather June 24 for a sacred run, a 500-mile relay
from Tehachapi through the Mojave Desert, up Highway 395 and looping
back to the Sonora Pass.
It will end with a celebration and barbecue about 4 p.m. June 29 at the
McHenry Recreation Area along the Stanislaus River.
Ramos has been participating since the relays began as the First Sacred
Run in 1978, organized by American Indian Movement leader Dennis Banks.
The latest national run this year began on Alcatraz island and ended in
Washington, D.C.
The theme of the national and state run is the same: All life is sacred.
Ramos has a strategy for the runs and sticks to it even though it's hard
on his arthritic knees.
"I always run 10 to 15 miles at the beginning. Why do I run so far?" he
asks rhetorically.
"If I run that far, all the young bucks think, 'If the old man can do
it, I can, too.' So I never have to run more than once. It's actually
pretty smart."
Ramos' spiritual quest began just before his daughter's death. He sought
peace through an ordeal that requires fasting for four days and
suspending one's self from a tree on something like fishing wire and
hooks.
When the hooks tear, the flesh is scarred. Ramos shows his scars. It
looks like an eagle's talons have grabbed him.
He also shared one of his first visions. "When I fell from the tree, I
collapsed on the ground," Ramos said. "The grass spoke to me. It said
'Thank you for giving shade from the hot sun.'"
To Ramos, the life of all things connects people, plants and animals.
His spirit guide in his vision quest has been an eagle. That magnificent
bird has sometimes come to visit him in his yard. His daughter tried to
take a picture, but the photograph didn't show anything.
He invites anyone who wants to share his life and ways to be his friend.
They can join him on the run or at the end of the run at the barbecue.
One rule: Don't bring an angry spirit or a personal agenda.
He excused some would-be runners last year.
"They wanted to protest the war and cause trouble," he said. "I told
them I couldn't run with them."
It's not that he favors war, but he said that "now is not the time. The
troops need all our support."