When Thunder Called: Black Elk's Vision and My Epic Dream

"And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captured on the carousel of time.
We can't return, we can only look behind from where we came
And go round and round and round in the circle game."  Joni Mitchell, 1970

"Draw a circle of power around yourself and stand in that circle." Black Elk (1863-1950) Holy man of the Lakota Sioux


I am not a wikasa wankan, holy man; I am wasich, a European, a white man. I do not want to suggest that my dream was as powerful as Black Elk's vision.  I do believe though that my dream was as important to me as Black Elk's vision was to him. At the time of my dream, I knew nothing more of Black Elk than the quote above.  I knew nothing of his vision. I knew nothing of the Thunder Beings who would guide his life.  I knew nothing of his sacred  hoop and of how this hoop radiated out from his heart though his tipi to his people and  eventually encompassed the entire universe.

In the spring of 1982, I was in the Baptist Book Store on Brainerd Road in Chattanooga, Tennessee.  I was there looking for Christmas music for my choirs.  This effort was often a difficult and arduous task.  At that time in my music ministry, I personally directed four choirs, two children’s choirs, a youth choir and adult choir. Just like a farmer with hungry chickens,  pigs and cows, I bought all the feed and I fed all of them twice a day. These choirs had a ravenous appetite for new music and  new challenges.  So it was up to me to find that music.  One of the places I found it was at this Baptist Book Store.  They had a special listening room complete with sample music and a listening device. I spent hours there and often found music I could use. But on this day all those years ago I recall that my efforts were largely unsuccessful. In my discouragement and stupor, as I was leaving the store, I noticed a carousel of cassette tapes.  I assume  that I was looking for Christian contemporary music to listen to when my eyes landed on a “self-help” tape for AA, for recovering alcoholics.  I was a near teetotaler at the time so alcohol was not a problem.  But for some reason I purchased that tape.

I’m reading  yet another book on  the life of Black Elk.  I feel a kinship with him that I can’t explain. The first book I read many years ago, Black Elk Speaks, is a book based on an interview by John Neihardt. This book basically chronicles Black Elk’s vision that he had during a near fatal fever when he was nine years old. This vision was to shape his entire life and deeply affect the life of his people, the Lakota Sioux.  Even on his death bed, he was recounting his vision to those around him.

When I got to my hatchback Honda Accord from that book store and started down the road, I put that tape in the slot in my stereo. What I heard was a series of quotes.  Each quote followed another. Many times the narrator included the author of the quote. There was no explanation or commentary, just quotes narrated by a man. As I listened to the quotes. one of them stopped me, “Draw a circle of power around yourself and stand in that circle. Black Elk”. These words were my introduction to Black Elk, As I heard these words for the first time, I  felt something ping in my spirit.  I don't know  how your inner voice speaks to you, but in that moment mine spoke rather loudly. It told me, “David, this is important. Pay attention to this.” Little did I know that these words would affect me so deeply for the rest of my life. This introduction to American Indians would also lead to a lifetime of reading and research about many native tribes including the Lakota Sioux.   I also didn’t know that they would inspire a dream that would deeply affect me as well.

In the case of Black Elk’s vision, his vision of the hoop of the world when he was nine years old, he was very sick and near death. He remained in that condition for twelve days.   None of his family expected him to survive.  In my case, I was a relatively healthy twenty nine year old enjoying a good night’s sleep on no day in particular. I was going through a very serious time of depression and emotional agony. My outside world had never been better.  My inside world was coming apart. That depression would not be diagnosed and treated for another ten years.  I lived among supportive family and friends, but  biochemically and emotionally, I was mostly on my own.

In the dream it was a stifling hot day.  There was no wind. Nothing was moving. I was walking by an elementary school that looked much like the school building of my childhood.  As I continued to walk, I walked into a ball field.  In  the intense noonday heat, I felt as bone dry as the ball field looked. In the dream I was walking to no place in particular, but I was walking toward some distant destination.   And I was trying to escape the oppressive dryness and  heat. My path was taking me towards a backstop fence behind home plate. I noticed a small  opening from a tear  at the base of the fence just behind home plate.  Instead of walking all the way around the fence, I decided to crawl through that hole.  I approached the hole, first put my head and then my body through it.

Not unlike Alice’s rabbit hole or the wardrobe that led to Narnia, I emerged into another dimension, another world.  Just like Black Elk could never adequately put into words his vision, I have no words that describe what I witnessed and experienced.  But after 36 years it's all still very vivid in my memory.  At this point in my travels I was in a long hall  of sorts surrounded by cages.  The cages were full of fantastic animals. These animals only “exist” in children’s books and fairy tales.  They were all shapes and colors and squawking their respective noises. I was not frightened or afraid.  They were not menacing and seemed to mean me no harm.  As I continued to walk through this hall, I continued to encounter these fabulous animals. Then at the end of the hall I emerged into a realm of incredible light and beauty.  This place was made of colors that don’t exist on earth.  There was a beautiful lake surrounded by beautiful lush trees, shrubs and greenery.  There were birds flying over my head.  And a gentle breeze exaggerated the perfect temperature. To say I was in paradise would be an understatement.  But although I was in paradise, paradise was not in me.  I still felt as heavy and as down as I did on that ball field. At that point I noticed that I was wearing a belt full of heavy tools. It was a utility belt, the kind worn by pole climbers who work for utility companies.  I tried to unfasten it but I couldn’t find a clasp. I felt a sort of despair that I could be in such a beautiful place and still feel such misery.  I looked out over the lake and saw a black cloud gathering in the distance.  Although I had not felt threatened by those animals, the cloud was giving me concern. The cloud grew larger and larger and closer and closer and bolts of lightning were flashing down on the lake.Thunder was pounding the valley around the lake.  Now this black cloud was overhead and I felt like my end was near. My entire body was tingling and my hair was standing on end. All of a sudden  there was a bright flash of light with a simultaneous clash of thunder. And I was struck by lightning.  The bolt struck my head and immediately found the ground through my body. Instead of dying,  I was still very much alive. The burdensome belt that I had been wearing had fallen to the ground and I was standing totally unrestrained.    I ran and I danced in my freedom. I was not only physically free of any restraints, but I had never felt so good in my life. It was the joy of an innocent child.  I had been completely purged of any negative thought or emotion.  In my exuberance I looked over the lake and  I shouted as loudly as possible, “I don’t work on electricity!  I AM E-LEC-TRICITYYYY!!”   And I woke up.

After several days I still couldn’t shake the dream. Although I can’t say I was in some sort of mystical dream state, the dream definitely stayed on my  mind.  After about a week I sought out a Baptist  minister, a trusted friend of mine.. After telling him the dream, he said "you need to go talk to Joe," Joe was a mutual Lutheran minister friend.  He told me that Joe was quite versed in dream interpretation.  So I called Joe and made an appointment to see him. The morning I sat down with Joe he wasted no time in asking me about my dream.  He said “Tell me your dream.”  Although it was impossible then and now to put the experience into words, I did the best I could. After relating the dream he looked at me and said, “Young man, God has given you an epic dream.”  I asked what that meant and he continued, “An epic dream is a dream that if you pay attention to it and figure out what it means, it will change the direction of your life.” Then  he gave me two cassette tapes on dream interpretation.  Joe told me that if I listened to the tapes and followed their instruction I would be able to find the meaning in my dream. It took hours, but I did as he instructed. 

It’s an odd thing about that “change the direction of your life” thing.  The dream did in fact change the direction of my life, but it was only years later looking back that I saw the truth of those words.  Although my path started bending almost immediately, that lightning strike didn’t  happen for another ten years. And that utility belt was still problematic.  Now with the perspective of thirty six years, it’s very easy for me to see exactly where that road began “diverging in the yellow wood.” But then my path seemed to be going about the same direction.

Black Elk was no saint. He was a first cousin of Crazy Horse who has been called the fiercest fighter of the Lakota Sioux and one of the last to surrender to the reservation.  As a teenager Black Elk  took  his first scalp from one of Custer's soldiers at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. A few years later he killed soldiers of the 7th Cavalry at the massacre at Wounded Knee, that is, the massacre of nearly 300 Lakota old men, women and children by the 7th Calvary. A few Indians had guns, the soldiers had repeating rifles and Hotchkiss machine guns. They followed those trying to escape down a ravine and into  the creek. Black Elk was a fearless fighter of the Lakota Sioux. But through the power of his vision, he was also a holy man, a healer. Hundreds came to him for spiritual, emotional and physical help. Black Elk's power was known throughout the reservation and his tribe. But after Wounded Knee he traded his pipe for the rosary.  He was baptized  Nicolas Black Elk, after St. Nicolas,  by a Jesuit priest on the Pine Ridge Reservation near the Wounded Knee Creek. He spent the last 40 years of his life as a catechist, a non-ordained Roman Catholic priest.  Over those 40 years he was able to bring in over 400 men, women and children into the Christian faith. When asked by his biographer John Neihardt why he surrendered his native religion for Catholicism, he said, "Because my children have to live in this world.."

Last October, the formal process began toward the canonization of Black Elk, that Nicolas Black Elk will become the second American Indian to become a saint. There's little doubt whether or not he will be confirmed. Since St. Nick is already taken, I don't know who he will be.  As for me, I'll never be a saint, but  I do know that Black Elk's circle of power changed the direction of my life and has been a part of all the good I've ever done for myself or anyone else.  That useless trip to the Baptist Book Store in 1982 had some value after all.