He was a difficult person to get along with in "everyday" life.
He would argue with you over the price of apples until you gave up. Just for the sake of winning an argument.
Against all odds, he completed law school while working as a dishwasher and janitor.
He returned home to the reservation to try and make a difference.
He ran for tribal president at age 32 and didn't get past the primaries because of the fact of his youth, inexperience in tribal politics, and a small stint he had in the past as an American Indian Movement activist at Yellow Thunder Camp in the Black Hills.
He moved on after losing the election, married for the second time in his life. He raised two children all while creating more wonderful children.
He worked. and worked.
He sold his soul to tribal politics, but not to his tribe.
He worked amonst many other tribes as their lawyer and advocate for Indian Gaming.
He still remembered the days of being a radical....an activist for the rights of Indians. He remembered marching and hoping someday it would mean something to someone.
He still worked for the rights of Indians everywhere, but it wasn't the same.
He probably hoped someday something he did would matter to someone.
In fact, I think that he wanted nothing more than to hope that somehow he made a difference somewhere to someone in this world.
So when he left this world on November 4th of last year, I wished I could have told him that he did make a difference in my life.
*For my stepdad Robert and in honor of my new nephew Wyatt Robert born this year on November 2nd.