Stephenson Tales

About 30 years ago, a new dentist, Dr. Ruedesalle, opened offices at the Interlochen Corners, and I got an appointment with him to have my teeth examined and for his technician to give them a good cleaning.

To my bewilderment, as he looked at my teeth he said, "Did you know that you have Indian teeth?"

I confessed that I did not know that, and asked him what he meant.

"Look," he said, showing me a large model set of teeth. "See these four points on the corners of the molars? They are called 'cusps,' and most of the human race has four, as you see here. Native Americans have an extra cusp on one side of the molars, making five. Only American ÔIndians' have this. Did you know about this?"

I confessed that I did not, but suddenly a lot of puzzling things in my past fell into place.

When I used to get my tan every summer, I was always intrigued to notice that first of all I got tan quicker than the kids around me; that I never got a real bad sunburn; that my tan was not brown but a deep reddish tan color. I always wondered why mine was never the deep brown of the other kids.

Then something even more revealing: Lucy Chase always carried her babies ten months instead of the usual nine, so they were always fully developed, with hair and all. When Lucky was born, she had a full head of almost black hair, and the nurses gathered it together in a curl on the top of her head. Her skin color was VERY red, and Lucy Chase said to my mother, "She looks just like a little papoose."

Mom snapped at her, "She does NOT, and don't you EVER say that again!"

Huh? Why this passion?

When we were alone, Lucy Chase said to me, "I think we have a skeleton in our closet." How right she was!

Well, we found out. My mother's grandmother, a Cherokee, had been rescued from the infamous Trail of Tears, which had Cherokees moved from Tennessee to remote areas in the west. She had been raised as a foster child by the McAllister family, and had been given the name of Susan. She married James Baird, who was known as Indian Jim because he constantly befriended the Cherokees in local disputes.

Among James and Susan's descendents appeared my mother Evelyn, daughter of Robert Alvin Baird and Evie Peachey Stevenson (cousin of Robert Louis). So here it was. When we wrote about it to Aunt Lula, Mom's younger sister, she wrote back, "How did you find out?"

Apparently they were all thoroughly ashamed of this Indian ancestor! Isn't that sad! But it explains a lot of the mysteries of my childhood. Mom assured me that "The only good Indian was a dead Indian," and that they never could be trusted: "Indian giver!"

I think she lived in mortal dread that Dad would find out this shameful heritage some how, and that he would think less of her because of her coming from an inferior race. I believe that all our children have inherited the "Indian teeth."


Composed 3 November 2008; Transcribed by Lucky

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