Medicine for First Nations is not medicine in the Western sense. It is a charm, magic, mystical or unearthly power as J.W. Morrow wrote in his book, Early History of the Medicine Hat Country. Hence the expression—her medicine is strong. When the Saamis Tepee was erected, Kainai Tribe Elder Dan Weasel Moccasin said that as long as the people of Medicine Hat respect the legend and the Tepee the blessings of the legend would be received.
A century ago the townsfolk of Medicine Hat passed their first test. When presented with an opportunity to change our name (Gasburg and Smithsville were some of the options bandied about) they voted 10-to-1 to keep our city’s unusual name. A letter from Rudyard Kipling appearing in the Medicine Hat News supported the local name with this memorable line. “What then should a city be rechristened that has sold its name—Judasville.” Keeping our traditional name was a respectful nod to the history of this land. And blessings did follow—after all we are the town that was born lucky. The legends, the Saamis Tepee and our city are all linked together.
Driving through Canada you see a lot of roadside kitsch unique to our country. The World’s Biggest Easter Egg in Vegreville. The World’s Biggest Kielbasa Sausage in Mundare. The World’s Biggest Truck in Sparwood. The World’s Biggest Canada Goose in Wawa. The World’s Biggest Moose in Moosejaw. Medicine Hat has been promoting the Saamis Tepee as the world’s tallest tepee and thus connecting it to this kitschy tradition, but it doesn’t deserve to be lumped in with that lot.
In his drive to build the Saamis Tepee nowhere did Rick Filanti talk about it as a roadside attraction. It is and was meant to be a serious tribute—“a monument to Canada and its people” as a Medicine Hat News headline heralded its conception.
By associating the Saamis Tepee with other fluffy roadside attractions we diminish it. The Saamis Tepee stands on one of the richest archaeological sites for the Plains First Nations. The site was a traditional gathering place for bands of Blackfoot in late winter and early spring—a time of joy no doubt with our glorious summer months ahead. They would gather to hunt buffalo and tell stories. Their culture evolved around communal bison hunts. Looking out over Kin Coulee you can imagine the vitality of this place. Tepees would have been the heart of this scene.
Matthew Cocking, working for the Hudson’s Bay Company in 1772, gave an early account of the Siksika. Near Calgary he was brought to a Blackfoot camp with 200 tepees pitched in neat rows. In the middle was the leader’s tepee, large enough to hold 50 people. This was the Siksika at the height of their power.
Conceptually, the Saamis Tepee makes little sense. Other than referencing a structure designed for the prairies, the Saamis Tepee has little in common with its traditional counterpart. Tepees are made of natural materials—wood and buffalo hides, the Saamis Tepee is made of industrial metal. Tepees were designed to be quickly taken down and moved. The Saamis Tepee is cemented to the ground. Perhaps it’s a subtle commentary of the dramatic change forced on the Plains First Nations. The move from a nomadic existence to a settled one.
The Saamis Tepee recreates an icon of the prairies with pillars of steel, but is only half a tepee. It’s just a frame. It provides no shelter. There is no covering, but there are no more buffalo. Siksika culture and identity was inextricably linked to the buffalo. They are the People of the Plain and the People of the Buffalo. To have the bison wiped out was a staggering loss. An existential crisis. They must again ask themselves what we all must ask. Who am I? Who are we?
The path to those answers always begins with the stories we tell each other about our past. Stories are the core of any culture. That’s why these First Nation legends are so important. Canada is 150 years old. 150 years ago the land where the Saamis Tepee stands was still used by local First Nations. 150 years isn’t that long ago. Our city is going through tough times, but to see the Tepee rising above Kin Coulee is a refreshing reminder of how young we are. We still have room to grow. Our medicine is still strong.
I relied on the reporting of Petra Kossman and Peter Hays of the Medicine Hat News in 1990 for this series and the always helpful staff of the City Archives at the Esplanade.
Medicine Hat News. April 28, 2017.