Grazing the Tomichi

We all sat quietly in the house of reverence to honor our friend, schoolmate and sister. Acknowledging some people and taking in the breadth of what Crested Butte was, is, and will be. It is a desideratum or a community of indispensable individuals if you will. Kindred spirits all in need of another for the wholeness that life can be. So, we gathered to honor a life described so fittingly in Max Ehrmann’s Desiderata that I have taken phrases from for this article.

As we sat awaiting the guidance of the priest who presided over the funeral, I was struck by the array of individuals who came together to acknowledge and celebrate a person who celebrated our oneness. Trudy Yaklich was her name. She was born of the mining town Crested Butte once was and the town of the young and restless it became. The forces of money and power reared their heads as they have today, creating the uncertainty untold generations have lived with. Yet they went forward “amid the noise and haste.” She championed that momentum.

The book marker created by Trudy’s family was so fitting for her life as a learner with Desiderata on one side and her picture in the flowers on the other. The Desiderata fits neatly for all our humble lives in the Gunnison Valley reaching 14,000 feet. It smacks of Trudy’s ability to forego the strife and love the world. 

She was born in an uncertain time when families came and went to and from the regional mines that may have been hiring at the time. Some men quit mining altogether and sought other ways to make a living. As people moved on it took a piece of all who were left behind, even if they didn’t realize it at the time. 

Miners were crippled in the mines or died in cave-ins or explosions, but they carried on despite awful treatment by the mine owners for they had mouths to feed. The families did not know from one minute to the next whether their husbands, brothers or sons would come home. The community breathed brotherhood, sharing meals between cultures and the love of dance.

In truth, Crested Butte has always been restless. The young, who are aging now, came looking for a place where kinship was paramount. They saw the elders then as mentors, teachers and pseudo parents. Every one of us has a reverence for the elders in our lives as we all migrated here.

Trudy’s father was a man who turned to more personal productivity by becoming a dairy farmer, and in my day a fix-it man along with another local named Willard Ruggera. They did not come from the same mold, no more than anyone else, and in fact both had the slight accents of their native tongues. But, in each of them it was understood that “there will be greater and lesser persons than themselves.” They were just themselves and Trudy lived that.

The people in that packed church sat shoulder to shoulder and were true to others even if not of the same color, ethnicity, occupations or political persuasions. Life in a free country where all could have a chance was the end game. In a mine it had to be so as it was in the tiny neighborhoods; they had each other’s backs and still do.

In that church I was struck by something that is in the Desiderata so eloquently printed on the handout, “Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.” As we find today, counsel of the elders is being lost in a world that may never find its way in our lifetimes, so we must notice we are “…children of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars.” Trudy knew this along with many wise thoughts as she became the elder, friend and mentor. Her soul was pure, but not without the shaping of her years and the input of those around her. We all learn or hope we do and follow her as she resides in the dynamic and colorful urn.

In my way of thinking, and that of most religions, the souls are returned to the universe to reign glory on those still on the particle we call earth. We learn from the people who leave us wondering as we attempt to understand life and death. “Whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” I believe so too Max Ehrmann.

The souls leave us with things to ponder a glorious gift. Trudy has moved on and every one of us sent a piece of ourselves with her on her journey. “In the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul. With all of its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” Amen.