Tribes Confront History and Heroin

Up and down the remote waters of the Klamath River, in the far reaches of Northern California, dual afflictions have flung dozens of Indian tribal settlements into crisis. The Klamath is sick, and so are many members of the Yurok, Hoopa and Karuk Indian tribes that live alongside one another on its banks.

An epidemic of heroin addiction has gripped the region in recent years, at the same time that ecological strain has led to a sharp decline of salmon in the river’s waters, threatening the tribes’ subsistence and commercial fishing.

Together, the crises represent a devastating affront to the traditional way of life on the Klamath.

“The river is the lifeblood of our community. It’s no coincidence to me that this opioid problem and the river crisis are happening at the same time,” said Amy Cordalis, the Yurok tribe’s general counsel. “When that resource is gone, it leads to a sense of despair.”

Last year, the tribe had to cancel commercial and subsistence fishing altogether because there were virtually no fish to catch. Four out-of-date dams upstream have led to residual ecological strain downstream, and now the solution tribal members hope for — their removal — awaits approval by an obscure federal government agency. The tribes, environmentalists and others hope the dams can be removed to address the ecological and cultural crises at once.

The broader fight for the river, said Cordalis, is “all about cultural restoration. This is a story of cultural perseverance, and of surviving assimilation and oppression.”

“I think a lot of our people who are on drugs have that same feeling: You want that culture back, because you feel it in your heart and you believe in it and you know what’s right,” she said. “Until that, I think people are really susceptible to all these bad influences.”

Related efforts include the revival of their native language and the planned development of “wellness villages,” culturally appropriate sites along the river that can serve as rehabilitation homes, where basket weaving and sweathouses will play a role. Tribal leaders highlighted the success of young tribal members pursuing higher education at top-tier schools, who they hope can come back home to the reservation and contribute to the cultural revival.

Many struggling through drug addiction have found hope in reconnecting with traditions, like Codie Donahue, 38, who wound up homeless after he and his girlfriend became addicted to methamphetamine and heroin.

Donahue, who has Yurok and Karuk lineage, recently checked into a drug rehab program in Eureka. He has been thinking a lot about the holy ceremony he once performed as a high priest for the Karuk Indians. In the ritual, he and others would pray in hopes that the river would wash away the sins of his tribe.

“Each morning, you go up to the altar in the mountains, and at the end of the ceremony, we go down to the river, and it washes all the bad down to the deepest parts of the ocean,” Donahue said. “And it’s a new day, a new time. You’re forgiven, and then you do better.”