Behind the Sign

This is the final installment of our four-part series, Swedebs Park Tells the Swinomish Journey. As the descendent of European immigrants who first ventured west of the Rockies in the mid-twentieth century, I have approached this series not so much with trepidation as with a deep respect for the people whose story has always been theirs to share, and who have been gracious enough to do so through venues such as Swedebs Park and the Hibulb Cultural Center. Blessed are the bridge builders.

It was the fundamental relationship with the land more than trade goods and missionaries that defined the growing cultural divide between the First People and the New People over the ensuing decades following first contact. As one of the Swedebs Park displays states, with considerable restraint, “Our way was to live with the land and care for it, but not to ‘work it’ the way traders, missionaries, and the white government thought we should. With the coming of white men, our ancient relationship to land and water changed abruptly. The newcomers curtailed our traditional pursuits — our fishing, hunting, and gathering.”

How the Swimomish came to be among the First People of the Skagit Valley is a story that goes back long before recorded history — but it is one that has been handed down through its telling to generation after generation. It is a story that begins with what those of us New People might recognize as a Noah figure — which, of course, means that a flood is also involved.

Travel across the Rainbow Bridge to the western banks of the Swinomish Slough and look toward Komo Kulshan (aka, Mount Baker). Now, close your eyes and stretch your imagination back more than two centuries ago. The year is 1790, and you are in the village of Txiwúc.