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194resilienceOn June 17, 1983, Willie Frank Sr. died. By most accounts, he’d live104 years. Word of his passing spread as his body lay inside the WaHe Lut Indian School with candles burning on each end.“Dad gave us 104 years of his life. That’s happy times. Happy timesand great times,” Billy observed, thankful for the many years spenttogether. Billy had shared coffee with his father every day of his adultlife. “We accept that death is part of life. You gotta be sad and yougotta be happy. You gotta cry and you gotta be glad. That’s the waywe’re going to be here today.”If the measure of a man can be gauged by the number of peoplewho pay him final respects, Willie Frank Sr. left an indelible mark onIndian Country. His passing brought 450 people to Nisqually. Indiansfrom many nations—Makah, Quileute, Lummi, Skykomish, Squaxin,Elwha, Chehalis, and more—joined a host of dignitaries that includedDixy Lee Ray, governor of Washington, and high-level bureaucratsfrom the Department of Fisheries and the Bureau of Indian Affairs.“He didn’t rob us when he left,” Adams reflected. “He left us withstrength and energy. It is not the end of an era, because Gramps’slife was so involved with bringing new resources to his people . . .to bringing an appreciation of us to people who aren’t Indian . . . toenhancing our understanding of people who can’t know what it isto be Indian.”Billy stood alongside the casket, holding his fourteen-month-oldson Willie in his arms. Two of the most important people in his lifeshared little more than one year together on the planet. “That’s theone thing I really wish,” says Willie III, “that I could have had achance to know my grandpa. Even the people I talk to at Nisqually,who really weren’t supporters of the Landing, they’ve all said, ‘Yourgrandpa was one of a kind. There’s never going to be anybody likehim. He was special.’“He never cussed. He never talked down to people. He nevertalked bad about people. It’s so hard, in this day and age, to eventhink that anybody could be like that, especially dealing with tribalpolitics. I mean, god dang. I see people—they’ll run somebody