Salt of the Earth

Salt of the Earth

Noel Laflin

7-15-14

Painting by Lauren Raine

“On the morning of June 30, 1956,” our trip leader solemnly began, “two commercial airliners collided directly overhead and plunged into the canyon walls above us.  One hundred and twenty-eight folks died that day.  At the time,” he concluded, “it was the worse aviation disaster in history.”

I scanned the general area to which he pointed.  The cliffs rose to dizzying heights.  If you stared long and hard enough, you could catch (or believe you had glimpsed possibly) a tiny shining reflection of metal on mountain.  Parts of flight TWA Flight 2 and United Airlines Flight 718 would never be retrieved.

“Twenty-nine bodies from the United flight were never identified,” our guide resumed.  “They are buried together in the old cemetery on the South Rim.  Worse yet, sixty-six of the seventy passengers on board the TWA flight were also disfigured beyond recognition.  They are buried similarly at Citizens Cemetery in Flagstaff.”

There was silence among both passengers and crew at this point as we continued to gently float down the muddy Colorado River.  We were at the confluence with the Little Colorado River.  There was a stark color difference between the mighty giant upon which we had traveled for the past few days and the beguiling turquoise blue of the smaller tributary pouring into it.  I believe our moods reflected that of the larger body of water for the moment.

A boatman began to steer the raft to one side of the river.  As we pulled further away our guide spoke once more.

“If you look closely to the opposite shore you’ll notice white patches lined throughout the cliff.”

We could easily see it.

“It’s salt,” he continued, “and sacred to the Hopi.  We always stay clear of it.  Although this is Navajo land, the Hopi still have passing rights in order to gather it.  It’s used in rituals.  Young men are lowered over the cliffs in order to scrape some of the salt from the walls.  It is then used in a coming of age ceremony.  In fact, some Hopi believe that mankind first entered the earth not far from this very spot as they followed Grandmother Spider from another world below.  There are other versions of man’s entrance; regardless, it’s sacred ground and we respect it.  Consequently, there are a lot of spooky legends pertaining to this general area.  It’s one place that I would not want to spend the night,” he concluded.

We soon pushed off and continued our adventure.  There were some giant rapids awaiting us downstream and we were looking forward to challenging them.

But, as I reflect back on that particular scene some thirty-odd years ago, I can’t help but wonder about salt-encrusted canyon walls, ancient deities (with mankind in tow) rising from the underworld, and folks falling from the sky – all within a mile radius of where we floated that day.

I don’t think that I would ever want to spend a night in the vicinity either.

Fortunately, we made camp many river miles downstream that evening.