An Epilogue: October 2001

In 1992, after seven years in the McAlester, Oklahoma supermax, Texas extradited me to the Ellis Prison in Huntsville, Texas which has the well-deserved reputation as one of the toughest prisons in Texas. Death Row was on Ellis where they had nearly 400 men waiting to die and they were killing them like flies. My age caught up with me and my health began to deteriorate; I was diagnosed with hypertension, diabetes, degenerative disk disease, hepatitis and probable prostate cancer. In 1999-2000 I became seriously ill because the prison health care was practically non-existent. The medical people wouldn't even give me the medicines the doctors prescribed. If it had not been for the constant flow of letters and phone calls from my attorneys Margaret Gold and Charles Swan, plus the many letters to the prison from family and friends, I would never have made it to see the glorious freedom I now enjoy.

September 4, 2001, was a beautiful day when I breathed the oppressive air of the living tomb of that Huntsville prison for the last time. As the prison gates clanged shut behind me and as I climbed into my friend's car I sent a silent prayer to my beloved mother whose birthday it was. She would have been 108-years-old this day had she not crossed over to the Spirit World as bombs were raining down on the people of Iraq. I know my freedom was her gift to me from Tunkasila. When we got on the freeway the sensory overload of cars zinging, zanging and whanging all around us nearly wiped me out and I briefly considered crawling into the back seat and hiding under a blanket, but when my friend handed me her cell phone and both my lawyers were on the line, we talked & laughed and it began to dawn on me that I could do everything that had been denied me for over a quarter-of-a-century. I was free at last! I just wanted to hurry up and re-start my life. About that us Texans usually say: Yee Haw! That means, "Get outta the way cause here I come!" :-)

On the way home to Houston we stopped at a nice restaurant so I could enjoy my first free-world meal. The prison officials had dressed me out in a ridiculous set of clothes that were complete with pants that were about six inches too big in the waist. Everything was all right going into the restaurant because I held my pants up in such a way that you could hardly tell there was a problem. The meal was so good I had to pat my foot while I ate it to keep from fainting. But when we got up to go I forgot to hold up my big pants so they fell down around my ankles. I just had to laugh because nothing could have ruined that day.

That first night home we had friends over for dinner and I was presented with a cake with one candle to indicate that I was one-day-old. The beginning of my life. Being reborn made me remember a few words from a poem by John Ciardi that I read 30 years ago. In the poem he talks about Lazarus: "Can all heaven imagine first water down the throat of the dead man risen? What it rinses? What hymns in a sniff of moss?"

Those words describe me exactly. Even after these few weeks of freedom I am still living in the consciousness of a new born baby. Everything I experience is new and wonderful. Not just the things I was denied in prison, but common things. Even seeing the moon. I went for 12 years one time without ever even seeing the moon. Things that are ordinary and boring to folks who see them and accept them as their due seem marvelous to me. We went to a little lake today and fed the ducks, fish and turtles. Trees and flowers were everywhere and a flood of joy came over me and I wanted to lay my head down on Mother Earth in the tall grass and weep.

When you've been dead for a long time, even having your pants fall down around your ankles is a joyous event. Creator raised me from the dead because of the prayers of the many people of different faiths. I intend to return prayers at as many churches, mosques and places of worship as possible to honor those who prayed for my freedom. On 9-26-01, I attended Yom Kippur services at Emanu El which is one of the most beautiful Jewish temples in Houston. The cantor sang his heart out and the choir and violinist were magnificent. I know now that the spirit in all these holy places is the same Great Spirit who comes to me in the small smokes of my Sacred Pipe.

I never gave up hope that my freedom day would come, but I have to confess that there were times when I was so sick that I wondered if I would still be alive to see it. Day by day I am regaining my health and strength and I will soon continue in the struggle to free my brother Leonard Peltier. Leonard is an innocent man who has suffered for more than 25 years in the Iron House of Greed for a crime he did not commit. How ironic that I--a guilty man--should be freed after 25 years and 5 months, while Leonard--an innocent man--remains locked up in prison. We must free Leonard Peltier. And soon!

To all of you who struggle to free Leonard Peltier and to any of you who made a prayer for my freedom, and to those of you who work in whatever way to make our Mother Earth a sweeter nesting place for our generations yet unborn I extend the left hand of my left arm which is closest to my heart. My love, strength, and prayers are with you.

In the spirit of Crazy Horse,

Standing Deer Wilson
977 Bunker Hill Road #113
Houston, Texas 77024

Copyright © 1991, 2001 by Standing Deer

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