Geronimo

A well known western figure I’ve long since wanted to write about was Geronimo. Growing up at Fort Huachuca I heard a lot about Geronimo and always admired him for so enthusiastically fighting back against the bad guys. He fought with a woman warrior I wrote about in the book She Wore A Yellow Ribbon. She didn’t live long standing up to a government that lied. But I guess she’d rather be a dead hero than a live coward. Geronimo waged war for twenty-five years against both U.S. and Spanish armies to protect his tribal lands. Born with the name Goyathlay, he had a violent life from the beginning with the death of his father during a war, followed by the murder of his first wife, three children, and mother during a raid by Spanish soldiers. “St. Jerome!” is what the Spanish settlers yelled when they saw Geronimo preparing to attack, asking for help of the patron saint of translators, for some reason. Some linguists believe that is how “Geronimo,” the derivative of Jerome, became a name synonymous with a wild assault. He and a band of thirty-eight remained the very last to elude U.S. troops, until he finally surrendered in 1886 and was sent to a reservation. Toward the end of his life he embraced his celebrity status and appeared at country fairs to sign autographs and even rode in President Teddy Roosevelt’s inaugural parade. He died of pneumonia in 1909 at seventy-nine. His grave was allegedly robbed by members of Yale’s Skull & Bones Society, and Geronimo’s skull is used today in initiation rituals of the secret club to which both Presidents George W. and George H. W. Bush once belonged.