While this conversation was being translated the government lawyer John Jay, who was sitting next to me asked: "Did you read that good article on the Hopi in the CATHOLIC WORKER?" "I wrote it," I answered. Jack Durham, publicity man for the Bureau, was also present and smiled approvingly when the interpreter translated Dan's forthright message. As we got up to leave I gave all those present copies of the CW with my article on the Hopi.
Nicholson put his arm around Dan and said:
"The way of Jesus, Gandhi and the Hopi is right. I think I am an anarchist myself. This whole mixed up world doesn't make sense."
He was on his way out of the Indian Service so I suppose could afford to speak the truth.
Another day we had a meeting for an hour and a half with Judge Witt of the Court of Land Claims, a stern looking, old man. He explained that the Hopi had one more year to file a claim for the land which they felt the government had taken from them and given to the Navajo. He advised them to get a lawyer, Dan gave the regular Hopi sermon at length, saying that they did not want money for the stolen land; they were here to ask the White man to repent of his evil ways. The judge wiped his eyes again and again and with great feeling said
"I thank you for the best sermon I have ever heard. I congratulate you on your noble faith and religion. I appreciate your visit and wish you well."
We spent a few minutes with Congressman Toby Morris, typical demagogue and head of the committee on the Navajo-Hopi Bill. He said he did not know how the name of the Hopi got in the bill. While I was picketing the tax man the Hopi interviewed Senator Johnson of Colorado. He had not known about the real Hopi and had the idea that as Indians, like most white men, had their hands out for something from the government.
Tuesday morning after Easter we spent several hours with Mr. Nash, Secretary to David Niles of the President's staff. He knew a real Hopi from a government Hopi and tried to say that Truman was a very religious man who would not allow anything to be done to harm the Hopi without first letting them have something to say about it. While the interpreter was translating, I whispered to him that there was a great difference between Dan and the rice-Christian Hopi. He nodded approvingly toward Dan.
After selling CWs at the Cathedral I left around noon with Bill and Paula Sutherland and Bent Andresen, for New York. Bill is dark skinned and the waitress where we stopped for some ice cream said that Negroes were not served here but "Egyptians were o.k.," looking at Bill. He had been called many names but never an Egyptian.
I had visited Mott St., the home of the CW, for a few hours in 1938 and 1939 but did not remember just whom I had met. I had corresponded with Bob Ludlow, one of the editors of the CW, for several years and was anxious to meet him. It was about 9 p.m. when I walked into the kitchen and introduced myself. Several there know of my articles and greeted me kindly. Bob was not in just
