A few paraphrased paragraphs from
Ian Frazier’s The Great Plains: "Crazy
Horse was a whole person from the moment of his birth to the moment he
died. He knew life and he knew where he
wanted to spend that life. He was beaten
but never defeated; he never surrendered.
He never signed anything. No photograph, painting, or even sketch
exists of him. He was killed; he was not
captured. He was so free that at the
most desperate moment of his life he only cut Little Big Man on the hand when
he could have killed him in anger. When
he met a white man he was not diminished by the encounter. His dislike of the oncoming civilization was
prophetic. The idea of becoming a farmer
never crossed his mind. He never met the
President, never rode on a train, slept in a boardinghouse, ate at a table,
wore a medal, top hat or anything else white men tried to give him. When Crazy Horse was killed, far more than a
man’s life was put out. Freedom -
Imagination - Limitlessness died there.
He refused to lie on a cot. He
chose the floor. Dead on the floor, he showed us where we
stand.” This
is why Crazy Horse is my hero. What does it mean to be a Human
Being? “Crazy Horse” is a good answer.