Surviving the Move
by Frances Stevens
In the fall of 1979, my father, Gary, learned that Tebo Mine in Calhoun, Missouri, would be closing. My dad was a Tipple Foreman at the time and was given the opportunity to transfer to Oklahoma or Arizona. After my parents discussed the options, they decided to visit the coal mine in Arizona, to determine if it was a viable option.
In February 1980, my parents flew to Phoenix, Arizona, and then drove to Flagstaff, Arizona to rest for the night before visiting the coal mine. The next morning, a tour of Kayenta Mine and the town of Kayenta was given to my parents by the General Manager of the Arizona Mines. After a week in Arizona, my parents returned to Missouri and informed my younger brother, Donnie and myself that we would be moving to Kayenta, a small town in Northern Arizona on the Navajo Reservation.
To say the least, I was devastated, I was a junior in high school and the thought of moving the summer before my senior year made me sick. I did not want to change high schools, graduate in a foreign place, let alone leave my friends.
In March 1980, my father relocated to Kayenta, making his temporary home at the Holiday Inn motel. As the time neared for us to follow, my mother, Judy, visited my father, to purchase a home. They purchased a double wide trailer from Farmington, New Mexico, which was set up in the Kayenta Mobile Home Park. Knowing we wouldn’t have room to take all of our belongings, an auction was held in early June, and then the moving truck arrived.
The movers worked diligently, wrapping and packing our prized possessions to be taken to Arizona. After the movers left, all that remained was an empty house. The house I had called home for the past several years. We loaded the car with our suit cases and the cat and began on our journey to Kayenta, Arizona. After riding in the car for what seemed like forever, we stopped to rest in Tucumcari, New Mexico. After a good nights rest and breakfast, our road trip continued.
Late the next evening, we topped a hill and my dad exclaimed, “There’s Kayenta.” I remember saying, “I thought you said it was a small town, looks big to me.” Of course, this was at night and the entire street and porch lights were on. Upon awakening the next morning, I asked, “What happened to the town?” My parents were right it was a small town. The town was made up of several small businesses, the schools, police department, post office and an IHS clinic. There were several homes scattered around on home site leases and a trailer park. Talk about culture shock. I had never lived in a trailer park. We had lived on a farm in Illinois and a house in Missouri both had plenty of wide open space. I had never lived n a place where I was a minority either.
I knew no one with the exception of my immediate family and a few of my parent’s friends, who were all older than I. My brother, Donnie and I decided to check out the trailer park. We went to the recreation hall, which had a swimming pool right outside. Seemed like all the kids in the trailer park hung out at these two places. Summer flew by and Donnie and I made friends with some of the other kids in the trailer park.
I had my first taste of frybread. We grilled out a lot, made sun tea on the porch and ate sand occasionally. When the wind blows in Kayenta, so does the sand, as there are not many trees or grass, to hold the sand in place. The heat in Arizona is dry, unlike Missouri, where it’s humid. When the wind blows the sand against your skin, you feel like you’ve been blasted by a sand blaster. It stings and is uncomfortable. You may smell dirt when the wind is blowing, but if it blows from the North, you smell the sewer lagoon or the waste from the livestock. Kayenta is open range country, so the cows, horses, goats, sheep and other livestock roam around and may be over your back fence at times. You hear coyotes howl, dogs bark, cows moo, and various other types of sounds during the calm of the day. There are police sirens and the screech of semi-truck brakes.
Before, we knew it, it was August and time for school to begin. My mom, brother and I went to the high school to enroll. Donnie was freshman and I a senior. The first day of school was nerve wracking. There were 142 seniors and only three (3) of us were non-Natives. Talk about feeling out of place, I certainly did. I had always gone to school with Anglo’s. Now I was the minority and had to adjust. Donnie’s locker was in the Freshman/Sophomore hallway, while mine was in the Junior/Senior hallway. To say the least, we did not see much of each other, but he was friends with my best friend brother, Harvey. Having each other to talk to and having friends made our transition easier.
During the first few weeks of school, my best friend Flo, short for Florence, introduced me to her friends. Most of them played volleyball and I had no idea how to play volleyball, I had never played. Before long, I began to fit in and hang out with Flo and her friends. Most of the teachers were Anglo and there were a couple of courses, which I lacked, which were required to graduate. My friends had easy courses, as they had fulfilled their basic requirements for graduation. I, on the other hand, had to take required courses, if I wanted to graduate. I tried out for basketball, but decided I needed to concentrate on my academics. I planned to go to college and continue my education. Besides I didn’t care for the basketball coach all that much. I did well in school and graduated sixth in a class of 142 students.
Although, I had dreaded moving the summer before my senior year and was a rebelling teenager, I survived. At times, I thought I would not make it through that my senior year of high school, but I did. Although my brother was younger, he was a good listener, but no help with homework. Through this trying time in my young life, I learned that moving can be a traumatic experience. I also learned that if you have the love and support of your family, and your new friends, you can and will survive, no matter what life throws at you.