Rez Warrior Wednesday


Jim and Pat Northrup share a joke at the Pine Journal office in May 2016

Ojibwe storyteller, Vietnam veteran, author, playwright, poet, cultural ambassador and family man Jim Northrup died Monday night from complications from cancer at his home in Sawyer. He was 73.

Northrup’s Facebook page exploded with messages in the hours after his son, Matthew, posted the following: “A Marine has passed away. With sadness in my heart I must inform you my father James Northrup Jr. passed away at 8:40 p.m. local time.”

By late Tuesday night, there were 368 comments in response to Matthew’s post, from friends, family and fans from all over the country and the world — and many more posts from friends and family added to the mix.

Northrup was a voice to be reckoned with, on and off the Fond du Lac Reservation, whether he was speaking Ojibwe or English, reciting his poetry by heart or writing pointed, yet humorous columns about life on the reservation, his experiences as a Marine in Vietnam or issues such as the proposed oil pipeline that could impact his beloved wild rice.



About Den

Always in search of interesting things to post. Armed with knowledge and dangerous with the ladies.
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7 Responses to Rez Warrior Wednesday

  1. Den says:

    Interesting person for sure, up in the Great White North, gone to the Spirit World.


  2. Den says:

    Because no one will read past what I posted there is this:

    Shrinking Away

    Survived the war, but was

    having trouble surviving

    the peace, couldn’t sleep

    more than two hours

    was scared to be

    without a gun.

    Nightmares, daymares

    guilt and remorse

    wanted to stay drunk

    all the time.

    1966 and the V.A. said

    Vietnam wasn’t a war.

    They couldn’t help, but

    did give me a copy of

    the yellow pages.

    Picked a shrink off

    the list. 50 bucks an

    hour, I was making 125

    a week. Spent six

    sessions establishing

    rapport, heard about his

    military life,

    his homosexuality,

    his fights with his mother

    and anything else he wanted

    to talk about.

    At this rate, we would have

    got to me in 1999.

    Gave up on that shrink

    couldn’t afford him and he

    wasn’t doing me any good.

    Six weeks later my shrink

    killed himself. Great.

    Not only guilt about the

    war but new guilt about

    my dead shrink.

    If only I had a better job,

    I could have kept on

    seeing him.

    I thought we were making

    real progress, maybe in another

    six sessions, I could have

    helped him.

    I realized then that surviving

    the peace was up to me.

    ~ by Jim Northrup


  3. º¿carol says:

    High today was 95° and very humid. So sick of this heat.

    We got the electric bill today, it was $311 and Bob had a fit. Well, what can we do? He can hardly breathe now, no way he could make it through that heat and humidity. Summer is almost over.


  4. º¿carol says:

    I borrowed a CD of David Gilmore from the library and it has On an Island on it. I plan to rip all the songs for my future listening pleasure.


  5. Den says:

    Just had a tune-up too.


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