Book Description

Soon Comes the Sweetgrass By: Carol Woster “It’s the grass that never dies,” pronounced the aging farm woman of the plains. Sweetgrass means a lot to these cultures. In the late 1960s, medicine woman Cecile Last Star dug in her worn trunk and gave me a plait of it, and it’s still here intact. Great cowboy artist C.M. Russell knew well the serrated mountains of Glacier National Park, wide stretches of undulating prairies and colossal fame. A young Ace Powell helped blast for Going-to-the-Sun highway in the early 1930s. His mother had said, “Ace, you are always painting a picture.” Charley Russell died in 1926. Earlier they wove in and out of Apgar, later Ace babysat for Charley’s son. Ace also spent his sophomore year at high school in Browning. Another great Montana artistic genius, Bob Scriver, became a fast friend from those high school sophomore days. Ace would give some of his stretched window shades to young artists in the tribe. Rich genius poured out from these parts. Sweetgrass was a backdrop to daily and sacred activities. Fragrances intermingled with lives. Outsiders called this life vanishing. Not to be believed as artists’ lives dominated the scene. By 1967, Ace made possible for me to stand in the presence of Last Star and witness the beautiful event where she gave me the sweetgrass. It waves still around these areas and has different meanings for different people. Yet to say this way of life is vanishing… no way. Remember people have hearts…