Traverse City Record-Eagle

Reflections

IN THEIR OWN WORDS

Noah Jacko, who died in 1998, made one of the black ash splint baskets on display at Eyaawing Museum in Peshawbestown. He was born on July 4, 1922, in Petoskey to John and Mary Ann Moses Jacko, who crossed the Mackinac Straits by boat when he was a boy to escape sending their children to Indian boarding school. His mother was originally from Beaver Island. Noah was the father of Doris Winslow and grandfather of Cindy Patek, both employed by the Grand Traverse Band of Ottawa and Chippewa Indians — Winslow as an executive assistant to Tribal Manager Sonya Zotigh and Patek a museum director. Here is what Noah Jacko's legacy of baskets mean to them, in their own words:

• Cindy Patek

"The baskets are important to me because I feel that I have a piece of him that will live on for many years to come even though he has passed on. I personally only have one of his baskets, and I can hold it up and say with pride to my son, 'This is a basket that your great-grandfather made.'

"His basket is a way for me to talk to my son about his past and where he has come from and will hopefully instill a sense of pride with him about his heritage. To me, my grandfather was an artist because he was able to create beautiful works of art.

"Baskets are thought of as such a useful everyday object, but my grandfather was able to take the simple materials of wood and sweetgrass and turn them into an art object."

• Doris Winslow

"This was a way that our family helped support itself. You could take pride in the beauty and craftsmanship of your basket and in gathering all the supplies needed from nature and the work that went into it — from cutting down the tree, splitting the wood, to dyeing, to weaving. In the past, nothing was bought to make these baskets.

"The idea that this was passed on from generation to generation in itself is inspiring. It showed me that all of us have talents that can create items that are beautiful and useful. We all have talents and traditions we can pass down in our families. It was amazing to watch my dad and mom get back to these roots and see this talent actually help supplement their income in later years. We all can do something to make our own way."

-- By Loraine Anderson

FROM REFLECTIONS

This story is reprinted from the spring edition of Reflections by the Bay. The magazine is available on newsstands and at the Record-Eagle office, 120 W. Front St., in downtown Traverse City. For information on how to subscribe or where to buy, plus more excerpts and past issues, see Record-Eagle.com/reflections.

PHOTO GALLERY

Click for an online photo gallery showing the steps to making a black ash basket »

Related Photos

  • Frank Weese weaves a basket at his dining room table surrounded by dyed and natural strips of black ash. A large basket takes him about 48 hours over several days to complete, from cutting the tree and prepping wood strips through weaving. Record-Eagle/Loraine Anderson

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  • A close-up view shows how basket maker Frank Weese tightly weaves a black ash strip through a larger splint, also black ash. Record-Eagle/Loraine Anderson

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  • Cindy Patek, left, and Doris Winslow show off black ash split baskets made by Noah Jacko. The largest is on display at Eyaawing Museum in Peshawbestown. Record-Eagle/Loraine Anderson

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June 5, 2011

'Part of my Survival': A basket-making life

Frank Weese reflects

BY LORAINE ANDERSON landerson@record-eagle.com

TRAVERSE CITY — Frank Weese is one of Michigan's few Indian black ash splint basket makers.

For him, the first step to making any basket is selecting the tree and sprinkling tobacco on the ground before he cuts it. Tobacco is a sacred plant in Odawa and Ojibwa culture.

"They really are chosen trees," he said. "If I don't pray and ask the Creator to help me and ask the plant world for a beautiful tree to make baskets for people, I get the wrong tree."

The wood has to be smooth, with no knots. The tree has to be straight, alive and growing in muck and swamp. The growth rings have to be about a quarter- or nickel-width thick.

Baskets mean a lot to Weese, 55, of Traverse City.

"They have been part of my life, part of my survival," he said. "They teach me patience and take me closer to Mother Earth."

Weese sees basket making as a God-given gift that brings him a sense of tranquility, happiness and joy. It relaxes him and makes him feel good about himself. So does the joy and happiness he sees in people who receive them.

His first lesson in basket making came at age 7 from his grandmother, the late Rose Shocko, of Peshawbestown. She showed him how to pound along a black ash log with the back of an ax to loosen the pliant wood strips used in weaving and how to split the strips into thinner sections after removing them from the tree.

"The most amazing thing to me was to pound and see the growth rings release -- and then splitting the strip in half and seeing the soft insides, like satin, become the outside of the basket," he said.

Shocko also showed Weese how to dye the strips. She and her husband, Joe, had a 43-acre cherry orchard and barn museum along M-22 in Peshawbestown. They sold cherries and baskets, and Joe Shocko also worked for a Suttons Bay lumber yard. Weese remembers his grandmother using her basket money to buy groceries, clothes and things around the house.

Weese's father, Willard, a migrant worker, also was a basket maker. He learned how to make baskets from his parents while growing up in Mancelona in the 1930s but didn't begin making them until he retired. Willard told his son that baskets helped his family survive the Great Depression. They traded them for eggs and other food.

Weese spent about five years, after getting out of the service in 1978, learning the finer points of basket making from his father.

Today, Weese's baskets are on display in a hallway exhibit and for sale in shops at the Turtle Creek Casino & Hotel in Williamsburg.

Weese said what he loves about basket making is that he can do it anywhere. All he needs is his ax and the trusty pair of scissors he bought years ago for $5 at a rummage sale.

He signs the bottom of each basket -- and also adds the following:

"May the Great Spirit always be with you."

"May Grandmother Moon light the darkness for you."

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