DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

Fresa, Edward Karl

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 13 
Fall 12-1-2019 
The Interception 
Edward Karl Fresa 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Fresa, Edward Karl (2019) "The Interception," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 13. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/13 
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starter jacket and kept all his gear. He claimed he never tucked a chain in his 
life, and he always wore a stupid fat one.  And me and Jojo had seen enough 
with him to know the truth of  the legend, but even if  it was a lie we wouldn’t 
clown him about it cause we was boys with our own lies to tell. But Dana 
said he felt like flying was something unnatural because he couldn’t hit it, or 
make it bleed, but that’s just how he was back then. Jojo said it was because 
he was a crack baby, as Kendrick would say we all was, but we didn’t talk 
about mommas like that back then, so we just kinda changed the subject if  
it ever came up. 
     If  we had had any sense, good or otherwise we would have stayed home. 
But we had heard that New York smoke was fire, and the honeys were fine, 
and we weren’t gonna leave sober and without stories, so everyone had to sack 
up and fly. We drank through the flight, maybe slept some, but not much, we 
didn’t have no checked luggage, or anything but the clothes on our backs, 
the plan was to buy and bring back authentic fresh ass Brooklyn gear, new 
fitteds and jerseys. We wanted to look like natives, to blend. And by the time 
we landed, and our feet touched the ground that Dana was gonna kiss, until 
he saw a grown man pee on it right out in the open. We stepped out into the 
daylight, ready to get something started, and hailed a cab with no destination 
in mind, maybe just ask the driver to take us somewhere to get a room. But 
the driver saw the three of  us, and wouldn’t stop, and it was just like home. 
     36 hours left, so we just walked, nowhere in particular. 
Ronda Crawford
The Interception. Edward Karl Fresa, Acrylic on Canvas
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English

The Interception

McNichols, Matt

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 15 
Fall 12-1-2019 
Identity 
Matt McNichols 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
McNichols, Matt (2019) "Identity," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 15. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/15 
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more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Identity
I am a fi gure of  myth
Associated with the sun
I am a druid of  times past
Cloaked, magical, mystical
I am a Celtic warrior
Ferocious yet fair
Rage within a bottle
I am an evangelist
Of  the inaugural century
Writer, healer, transcriber
I am commoners many
Each with a path to walk
I am a Templar Knight
Guardian of  the Grail
I am an Irish rebel
Willing to do nearly anything
To achieve freedom
I am a blind seer, poet
The last
Of  traditional Irish bards
I am an heir
To something known, unknown
Inextricably pulled
In the seemingly errant directions
Of  a destiny mired in fog
Yet ultimately
I am me
You are you
We are one
Matt McNichols
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Identity

Bosy, Peter

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 19 
Fall 12-1-2019 
Profile 
Peter Bosy 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Bosy, Peter (2019) "Profile," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 19. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/19 
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more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Freedom
self  love freed me
it was love for you
that chained me to the wall
in the beginning of  it all
you had me in a chokehold
holding me,
whispering confessions of  love
as your hand confessed with a shove
that I was nothing;
just a white face
natural pinks and reds put out of  place
by your colorblind chokehold
which held me so strongly
it left a mold
of  my limp body on the grey wall
I think my pinks and reds got lost in the grey
the same way I got lost in you
but self  love freed me
let me be
just be
unchained and released me
no embracing or chokeholds
not even for you
there wasn’t a thing you could do
because now my hands have the strength to
reach my neck
and release you
pursue new reds and pinks
and even blues for my veins too
self  love won’t fight you
it won’t negotiate
just leave you
you can follow it and join us
or you can continue to strangle grey air,
you choose
Meghan Dietrich
Profile (at right)
Peter Bosy
Digital Art
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Profile

Blanco, Tania

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 27 
Fall 12-1-2019 
View of the Cosmos 
Tania Blanco 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Blanco, Tania (2019) "View of the Cosmos," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 27. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/27 
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View of  the Cosmos. Tania Blanco, Collage
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View of the Cosmos

Simanskiene, Rolanda

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 31 
Fall 12-1-2019 
Winter Tale 
Rolanda Simanskiene 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Simanskiene, Rolanda (2019) "Winter Tale," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 31. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/31 
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Winter Tale. Rolanda Simanskiene, Digital Artwork
27
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Winter Tale

Roberts, Oren

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 60 
Fall 12-1-2019 
Druid Note 
Oren Roberts 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Roberts, Oren (2019) "Druid Note," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 60. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/60 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Druid Note
nothing is what you tell me I’ve
earned for all my work, but
consider what I’ve brought to
you and all it must be worth: 
 the vial sweet with golden
 syrup, and the neck I used to
 carry it, the sunrise trapped
 within its glass, and the box it
  will be buried in; 
 the seven digits left to 
 twitching on my charred and
 severed hand— 
you see it and you shiver,
counting, deaf  to
my demands.
If  nothing is what you
owe me for everything
I’ve done, consider what
I’ve given you and the
nothing that I’ve won: 
 a hundred dawns spent by the
 water as the sun did its work
 and boiled, and the empty
 wrist I rightly earned when
 gathering the spoils; 
 the pain that I was forced to
 bear as the vial seared into
 my skin— 
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and when you tear it from 
my neck, I will know that pain
again.
if  you owe me nothing for
my work and missing hand,
then you may give me
nothing— if  nothing is what
I demand: 
 nothing is a silver cowl to
 protect me from bad luck, and
 nothing is your severed
 fingers to prod what I cannot
 touch; 
 nothing is a silken
 string to suspend my
 new belief  
that once you’ve taken what you
want you’ll kill me in my sleep. 
Oren Roberts
51
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https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/60


Druid Note

Hill, Tom

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 71 
Fall 12-1-2019 
Hitting The Fan 
Tom Hill 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Hill, Tom (2019) "Hitting The Fan," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 71. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/71 
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more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Hitting the Fan
Everything gets older; it’s not just you. 
But knowing what to do is difficult, impossible really, and 
if  life is a series of  mistakes (some happy, some small, some 
mean), then there must be a way to honor a day like this: 
the wind tepid but thrilling when it lifts, not so much a chill 
as a stirring.
Leaves toss occasionally, and years scatter too, and 
reemerge like shot, like a bruise. 
I remember. 
There you were in your parka, beneath some kind of  large 
tree and you were smiling, I think, and I was a ways off still; 
sullen, smoky, unaware of  time’s tug against my skin, the 
sun’s ancient, ugly leer. 
You were saying something like, “I am always west of  
where you are.” Profound maybe, but maybe not.
Sometimes distance is strictly spatial.
And since you ask, everything since then has seemed to 
slow and dim until just now, when all my mistakes rose like 
little balloons, full of  color, opaque, (and burst). 
It’s not only possible, but likely, that the things you care 
about will change, or slip away.
People say, “Life is funny that way.” 
You get older, you keep getting things wrong.
You get a few right. You get older.
You feel the same.
Tom Hill
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Hitting The Fan

Bressler, Leonard

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 75 
Fall 12-1-2019 
Time 
Leonard Bressler 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Bressler, Leonard (2019) "Time," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 75. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/75 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Time
If  only we could hold time in a bottle, letting it seep out slowly when we 
wanted it to move forward. Instead, we try to tuck it into a closet shelf  or 
dresser drawer, trying our best to save the memories. We hold on to them for 
years, piling more and more on top of  the ones already saved. How many 
years pass before we notice and remember?
Yesterday I opened a drawer in my bedside stand. I had a Goodwill bag handy 
in preparation for the disposal of  years of  collected things. In my possession, 
I had a pair of  30-year-old boots, sweaters from the ‘80s and, surprise, my 
cap and cape from nursing school in the ‘50s. It’s time to start clearing out the 
things I’ve saved for years.
Holding the yellowing cap, I was reminded how we washed it, then dipped 
it in undiluted starch. Dripping wet, we pasted it onto a refrigerator door to 
dry. A day later we peeled it off and folded it into the shape of  the cap we so 
proudly wore. A piece of  tissue, pinned with two bobby pins to our hair, held 
it to the top of  our heads as we proudly walked the hospital halls. The rustle 
of  our starched, white aprons announced our approach.
 The day of  our capping, we also received the top bib of  the apron. It was 
affixed to the apron by two buttons that were sewn to the back, between which, 
our scissors fit, Semper Paratus, always ready. Along with the bib, white cuffs 
and a removable collar, which attached to the blue dress we’d been given on 
our first day in training, were also issued to complete our student uniform. 
We were student nurses and could not be misidentified as cleaning women 
nor anything else. Our uniforms labeled us, and we proudly looked the part.
The navy-blue cape no longer fits. I weighed 118 lbs. when it was issued. I 
question why I’ve kept it? To whom will I give it? It’s warm, and lovely with no 
moth holes in the one hundred percent wool, navy-blue fabric. No one wears 
capes any longer, though it could be a costume for Halloween. It has a red-
wool lining and a mandarin collar with gold initials, PHSN, on each side that 
stands for, Pottstown Hospital School of  Nursing. It’s a fine-looking article of  
clothing. Maybe, I’ll start a new trend and wear it.
In September of  1952, when I entered training, we student nurses were given 
all our uniforms, the cape and all the books we’d need for the three years of  
study. Along with all that, we received new shoes every six months. The cost 
for those three years of  training was $200.00. Hard to digest today when 
loans are keeping our young people in debt for years.
I must say, the hospital got the better deal, as their place was manned by the 
students on all shifts. We were the nurses they didn’t have to pay and yet the 
hospital was fully covered. One supervisor per floor was all they had need 
of  while we did the work. It was good training at a time when things were 
simpler. There were always older students with us as we learned. The second- 
and third-year girls helped teach us probies. We would get our chance to pass 
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on what we knew as we advanced. We worked year-round, with only two 
weeks off in the winter and two weeks in the summer. It really was equivalent 
to a four-year college.
My, my, but the memories have flooded in by writing this, which brings me 
back to the disposal of  items. I put the cap and cape back in the closet. It’s 
not time to rid myself  of  these memories, yet. Just touching the starched cap 
and soft wool of  the cape put me back in time for a few moments. There are 
plenty of  items to be disposed of  in the many drawers left to explore. I’d best 
get to it while my energy is high.
 If  only time could be held at bay a little longer to allow the crevices in my 
brain time to reveal what else is lodged there. 
Leonard Bressler
Hold On. Brittany Schloderback, Hair Pin
67
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Time

Schloderback, Brittany

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 76 
Fall 12-1-2019 
Hold On 
Brittany Schloderback 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Schloderback, Brittany (2019) "Hold On," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 42 : No. 1 , Article 76. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol42/iss1/76 
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more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
on what we knew as we advanced. We worked year-round, with only two 
weeks off in the winter and two weeks in the summer. It really was equivalent 
to a four-year college.
My, my, but the memories have flooded in by writing this, which brings me 
back to the disposal of  items. I put the cap and cape back in the closet. It’s 
not time to rid myself  of  these memories, yet. Just touching the starched cap 
and soft wool of  the cape put me back in time for a few moments. There are 
plenty of  items to be disposed of  in the many drawers left to explore. I’d best 
get to it while my energy is high.
 If  only time could be held at bay a little longer to allow the crevices in my 
brain time to reveal what else is lodged there. 
Leonard Bressler
Hold On. Brittany Schloderback, Hair Pin
67
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Hold On

Dineff, Chris

ESSAI 
Volume 17 Article 16 
Spring 2019 
Fraternity Brothers or Founding Fathers? Defining the Role of 
Whiskey and the Communal Binge on Native American Culture on 
the Frontier 
Chris Dineff 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Dineff, Chris (2019) "Fraternity Brothers or Founding Fathers? Defining the Role of Whiskey and the 
Communal Binge on Native American Culture on the Frontier," ESSAI: Vol. 17 , Article 16. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/essai/vol17/iss1/16 
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has been accepted for inclusion in ESSAI by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, 
please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
33 
Fraternity Brothers or Founding Fathers? Defining the Role of Whiskey and the Communal Binge on 
Native American Culture on the Frontier 
 
by Chris Dineff 
 
(English 1102) 
 
 
 
he history of whiskey in the United States does not just shape American culture.  In fact, its 
historical and political impacts stretch back to the nation’s founding days.  The importance of 
whiskey is seen as early as the 1791 Whiskey Tax, after which the 1794 Whiskey Rebellion 
became the well-known demonstration that opposed it.  Through the rebellion, former colonists, now 
Americans, proved how much they valued whiskey, not only as a part of their culture but also as a 
commodity.  The value in trade that whiskey played in American’s interactions with the Native 
Americans has had far reaching consequences.  Stereotypes about the drunken Native American have 
evolved over time as Native American’s characteristics were initially blamed for their behavior under 
the influence.  However, more modern conclusions attribute stress, inadequacy and loss of identity to 
blame for this continued alcohol dependence (“Alcoholism”).  With the introduction of trade between 
Native Americans and colonists, whiskey and other spirits began to have a profound impact on the 
culture of the Native Americans, putting them on a crash course with the settlers pushing West, 
which ultimately lead to their demise. 
 The earliest reported appearance of alcohol in the New World was believed to be attributed to 
the French in the 1600s, yet the first reaction by the Native Americans towards it was more towards 
abstinence than indulgence.  As Pierre Pastedechouen, a Jesuit, in the early 1630s reported, it seemed 
Native Americans believed the French, “dressed in iron, ate bones, and drank blood” (“Alcohol”).  
This negative conclusion that many Native Americans had was clearly not a favorable one towards 
French wine.  It is then genuinely surprising that only a few decades later, in 1650, the British 
reported beginning an alcohol trade with Native Americans.  After settling on the Atlantic Coast, 
colonists with entrepreneurial ambition began to import rum.  The attractive nature of alcohol to 
Native Americans is notable in contrast to American views.  Where it was common for colonists to 
recognize the taste of wine and spirits, one colonist noted that the Native Americans were more 
interested in rum than wine because it was cheaper and provided a quicker path to intoxication 
(“Alcohol”). 
 This path to intoxication and inevitable damages were accelerated once colonists 
acknowledged new opportunities over the frontier.  Without a true monetized economy in place, the 
new aptly named frontiersman needed a currency that was easier than corn or other sustainable 
commodities.  In short, they settled on whiskey.  Now it may seem that this was a dangerous 
proposition, which it was, but the new frontier did not have the infrastructure to support the use of 
crops to facilitate trade.  As a result, whiskey’s ability to be bottled, stored, and moved easily (not to 
mention its density in value) gave it wide appeal.  To further appreciate whiskey’s value as a 
monetary commodity, it should be noted that fur companies often used it to pay their trappers both 
white and Native American (“Alcoholism”).  Introducing whiskey as a method of payment by an 
employer created an unmatched power dynamic where the fur companies could continually rely on 
their trappers each year because unlike cash, the trappers drank all of their compensation. 
 With the swift introduction of whiskey into the frontier culture, it quickly became apparent 
that there were negative impacts of widespread alcoholism.  By the late 18th century, the town of 
Vincennes (now part of Indiana), was regularly tortured by drunk Native Americans who had traded 
their guns and supplies for alcohol.  As Richard White explains in The Middle Ground, Native 
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34 
Americans “reeled through the village armed only with their knives, which they used to stab and 
slash hogs, cattle, Americans, French, and (mostly) one another” (497).  Citing a letter from William 
Henry Harrison (later the 9th President) to the Secretary of War in 1801, White states that Harrison 
estimated the traders sold six thousand gallons of liquor annually to Native American villages, where 
the populations were at most, six hundred warriors.  Warriors and chiefs alike were murdered by 
others under the influence, and it appeared by the beginning of the 19th century that alcohol was 
threatening to wipe out both Native American culture and the Native Americans themselves.  
Recognizing this impending disaster, many Native American chiefs as well as the newly formed U.S. 
government attempted to halt the alcohol trade on the frontier.  Those attempts failed, as other chiefs 
became dealers themselves.  Preventing traders from selling alcohol to Native Americans proved 
difficult for the young government (498). 
By 1808, President Thomas Jefferson realized that federal laws to ban the sale of liquor had 
failed (“Alcoholism”).  Although he asked state and territorial governments to enact similar 
legislation, the request did not have much impact regulating the many independent traders throughout 
the frontier.  As Ann Keating recognizes in Rising up from Native American Country: the Battle of 
Fort Dearborn and the Birth of Chicago, John Kinzie, the infamous Chicago-based trader had a very 
lucrative business selling liquor to other traders who would bring the goods directly to local Native 
American villages (77).  The Native American villages themselves knew that the U.S. government 
had banned the sale of alcohol, but still visited the U.S. owned general stores.  Their prices were 
lower than typical traders, but traders, like Kinzie, had locations next to the government-owned 
stores, providing easy access to the liquor trade.  
While national politicians attempted to curb the influence of alcohol on Native American-
American relations, local politicians continued to use alcohol as a bargaining tool.  Lewis Cass, the 
governor of Michigan Territory and Superintendent of Native American Affairs for the upper Great 
Lakes area, was deemed a hypocrite by Bernard C. Peters in his paper Hypocrisy on the Great Lakes 
Frontier: The Use of Whiskey by the Michigan Department of Native American Affairs (3).  Peters 
notes that, “[a]lthough Cass publicly condemned the use of whiskey by traders, evidence indicates 
that he used whiskey to serve his ends, typically to induce Native Americans to cede their lands to 
the United States government.” During negotiations in the fall of 1819, Cass requested 
“considerations…congenial to their habits” while attempting to get the Saginaw band of Chippewa to 
agree to a cession of approximately six million acres (4).  These “considerations” included over 660 
gallons of whiskey for the Chippewa.  Although the effects of alcohol were known, the ultimate goal 
of local and federal politicians was to expand and settle frontier using alcohol as a manipulative tool. 
While alcohol was used as a tool against the Native Americans, one must grasp its effect on 
the average American at the time.  At no other point in American history did Americans drink more 
liquor.  A good excuse may be that they were celebrating two victories against the British Empire, 
but the sheer quantity of alcohol consumed per adult male daily was concerning.  Between 1790 and 
1840, the average adult male drank almost half a pint of hard liquor daily (“Alcoholism”).  With this 
alarming statistic taken into account, one must evaluate the two methods of drinking that were 
common in American culture at the time: drams and communal binges.  Drams were daily dosages of 
small quantities of distilled spirits, which did not lead to intoxication or drunkenness but did increase 
tolerance.  Communal binges, on the other hand, were just that: binge drinking brought to the masses.  
Anytime three or more men got together to drink enormous quantities of alcohol with the purpose of 
getting drunk was considered a communal binge.  This practice, not surprisingly, is still around 
today. 
How then did these American attitudes towards alcohol shape the Native American’s 
drinking culture and culture overall?  Taking into consideration the influence of widespread 
communal binging, popular amongst the frontiersmen, it becomes easy to recognize the correlation.  
In a few historical instances, communal binges affected American military decisions.  An example is 
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35 
a well-known military fiasco, known as Stillman’s Run.  In a complete misunderstanding, most 
military and professional minds at the time had exclaimed that the Sauk, led by Black Hawk, had 
crossed the Mississippi to make war, not to farm (Trask 150), as they actually intended.  So, when 
Major Isaiah Stillman departed Dixon’s Ferry on May 13, 1832, he led his local militia with the 
purpose of exterminating the Sauk (182).  The story gets more colluded when one realizes how the 
involvement of alcohol affected the decisions made here.  According to a private, Andrew Maxfield, 
troops moved towards the Sauk camp, abandoning heavy wagons loaded with whiskey.  But before 
doing so, “one barrel of whiskey was…unheaded, and all…canteens filled” (183).  It is extremely 
disturbing to think that Stillman’s men were drunk during their first confrontation with Black Hawk 
and retreated after the first counter-attack due their incapacitation. 
With this defeat and significant embarrassment for the Illinois militia and Governor 
Reynolds, it must not be forgotten that alcohol played an important role.  To counter the 
commonplace stereotypes against Native Americans and their drinking habits, look no further than 
the undisciplined behavior of Major Stillman and his men.  In their intoxicated provocation of a Sauk 
group, they failed to recognize that the Sauk had not made any hostile moves after crossing the 
Mississippi (Trask 182).  The widespread impact of whiskey on the Native Americans is seen in 
debilitating results on individual lives and the culture in its entirety.  When negotiating with the 
Native Americans, American politicians ignored moral consequences of using whiskey as a 
bargaining tool.  Thus, a new group of people was created who were dependent on alcohol.  Violence 
became common in places like Vincennes, and confrontations on the frontier were just other side-
effects of the ever-so-popular communal binge.  Based on the evidence presented, it is clear to see 
why the stereotype of the drunken Native American occurred in the first place and persists to this 
day.  Whiskey was the primary contribution to the lack of advancement on the frontier, especially for 
Native Americans, as the monetary supply was spent as quickly as it was paid out. 
 
 
  
 
Works Cited 
 
“Alcohol and Native Americans.” Encyclopedia of North American Native Americans, 1996. History 
Study Center, http://gateway.proquest.com.cod.idm.oclc.org/openurl?url_ver=Z39.88-
2004&res_dat=xri:ho-us&rft_dat=xri:ho:sup_ref:hmfalcoholandin. 
“Alcoholism, Native American.” Encyclopedia of North American Native Americans, 1996. History 
Study Center, http://gateway.proquest.com.cod.idm.oclc.org/openurl?url_ver=Z39.88-
2004&res_dat=xri:ho-us&rft_dat=xri:ho:sup_ref:hmfalcoholismin. 
Keating, Ann Durkin. Rising up from Native American Country: the Battle of Fort Dearborn and the 
Birth of Chicago. The University of Chicago Press, 2012. 
Peters, Bernard C. “Hypocrisy on the Great Lakes Frontier: The Use of Whiskey by the Michigan 
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Dineff: Fraternity Brothers or Founding Fathers?
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2019


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