At Neihardt Day on August 3rd, 2025, John Neihardt’s granddaughter, Coralie Hughes, spoke about her grandfather and her memories of him. These are her words:

We called him Gaki

John Neihardt through the Eyes of Children and Grandchildren

·         My mother Hilda Neihardt, wrote A Broidered Garment to capture the love story of John and Mona Neihardt, and of course her memories growing up with them are likewise recorded therein. That book, coupled with the memories of “us kids” that are still living, are the source material for this discussion today.

·         We called him Gaki, a nickname started by a first grandchild that stuck for the entire family.  Mona was “Nanny” to us. Although Nanny was just as important to us all in different ways, today I will be focusing on Gaki.

·         He believed he must first live up to the responsibilities of being a man, a husband and a father, before he had the right to be a poet.  The chase after income was constant.  He grew much of their food. He fixed everything himself. And they did without. It’s no wonder it took him 28 years to complete his great Cycle of the West.

·         He lived a very organized and disciplined life. There was structured mandatory morning time for writing, the rest of the world and family had him for afternoon and evening.

o   A Broidered Garment: “When mornings he went into his room to write, the children knew that they must be quiet, and that he was not to be disturbed until one of them was asked to tell him lunch was ready. If, when a knock on the door was not answered, or its opening revealed a man who, seemingly unseeing, looked right through the one at the door, it was quietly closed, and lunch waited.”

·         John Neihardt had no problem reconciling two highly divergent worlds and lived fully in both. He was simultaneously a poetic mystic and family man. I am intentional in referring to him as a poetic mystic rather than a mystic poet.   So, what does this mean for his attitude toward children?

·         We know what JGN thought about children. He tells us in his lyrics.

o   Hymn Before Birth shows us Gaki’s perception of the mystical nature of life and new birth.

Soon shall you come as the dawn from the dumb abysm of night,

Traveler birthward, Hastener earthward out of the gloom!

Soon shall you rest on a soft white breast  from the measureless mid world flight

Waken in fear at the miracle, light, in the pain-hushed room.

Lovingly fondled, fearfully guarded by hands that are tender,

Frail shall you seem as a dream that must fail in the swirl of the morrow:

O, but the vast, immemorial past of ineffable splendor,

Forfeited soon in the pangful surrender to Sense and to Sorrow!

Who shall unravel your tangle of travel, uncurtain your history?

Have you not run with the sun-gladdened feet of a thaw?

Lurked as a thrill in the will of the primal sea-mystery,

The drift of the cloud and the lift of the moon for a law?

Lost is the tale of the gulfs you have crossed and the veils you have lifted:

In many a tongue have been wrung from you outcries of pain:

You have leaped with the lightning from thunder-heads, hurricane-rifted,

And breathed in the whispering rain!

Latent in juices the April sun looses from capture,

Have you not blown in the lily and grown in the weed?

Burned with the flame of the vernal erotical rapture,

And yearned with the passion for seed?

Poured on the deeps from the steeps of the sky as a chalice,

Flung through the loom that is shuttled by tempest at play,

Myriad the forms you have taken for hovel or palace---

Broken and cast them away!

You who shall cling to a love that is fearful and pities,

Titans of flame were your comrades to blight and consume!

Have you not roared over song-hallowed, sword-stricken cities,

And fled in the smoke of their doom?

For, ancient and new, you are flame, you are dust, you are spirit and dew,

Swirled into flesh, and the winds of the world are your breath!

The song of a thrush in the hush of the dawn is not younger than you--

And yet you are older than death!

o   A Child’s Heritage:  knowing he might not ever be able to give much in material comfort to his family, Gaki felt he could give a sense of the best of what mankind has thought and felt and done to his children.

O, there are those, a sordid clan,

With pride in gaud and faith in gold,

Who prize the sacred soul of man

For what his hands have sold.

And these shall deem thee humbly bred:

They shall not hear, they shall not see

The kings among the lordly dead

Who walk and talk with thee!

A tattered cloak may be thy dole

And thine the roof that Jesus had:

The broidered garment of the soul

Shall keep thee purple-clad!

The blood of men hath dyed its brede,

And it was wrought by holy seers

With sombre dream and golden deed

And pearled with women’s tears.

With Eld thy chain of days is one:

The seas are still Homeric seas;

Thy sky shall glow with Pindar’s sun,

The stars of Socrates!

·         Children start out as wubs. What is a “wub”

o   In Neihardt’s words: “A Wub is a recent arrival on this planet who is still as spineless as a bowl of apple jelly. When you hold it up with the palms of your hands on its bottom, it folds together like an accordion, slumping into a helpless puddle of baby and looking exactly as all babies have looked from the beginning of time, according to the best authorities.”  This moniker leads you to the well-practiced “I wub you so much”.

·         If ever there was a man’s man, it was JGN.  It wasn’t “let’s go for a walk to give mom a break”. It was a many mile hike if you went with Gaki.  And camping, rain or shine, usually with nothing but a pocket-knife. Building a shelter if it rained, starting a fire in the rain. He liked to challenge himself, and everyone went along for the ride. Swimming in Roark Creek in Branson, he could float like a cork with his big chest inflated.  And then at night it was “Sing poetry, Daddy” around the campfire.  If they were in the middle of a pasture, the animals would come join the firelight and listen, too.  Although they probably didn’t understand the poetry of the world’s greatest which he would recite, or the stories of ancient Greek and Roman heroes he would tell, or his reciting from what he had just written, the kids got the feeling of his admiration for strength, endurance, power and beauty. And self-reliance.

·         When someone needed a little reminder as to standards, the life choices guideline was “remember who you are”. Not as an egotistical reflection on him, but “remember who you are” in the broad scheme of things as written about in his poetry. One should strive to live up to the beauty of those universal, transcendental concepts. Of course, it takes a lifetime for the rest of us to maybe understand what all that entails.  But he knew.

·         Hilda, my mother, and their third child. 

o   Nanny and Gaki typically got up early, well before the children did, to have coffee together and talk about what he was then writing. Alone among the children, my mother Hilda used to awaken early as a child and sneak down to the lower-level kitchen, sitting hidden on the stairs.  Her parents John and Mona, regularly reflected on what they called “the higher values” and she loved to listen in.  She felt that there was a special moment going on and she wanted to feel a part of it, although just a kid.

o   It was handy having a poet as a father.  For Christmas 1922, Hilda was assigned to bring in something to her grade school class for the celebration.  Gaki wrote “What is Christmas” for her:

This holiest of all the nights

I wonder what it means?

It’s surely more than candlelights

On tinseled evergreens.

It’s more than toys that make it dear

And eating pleasant things,

For if you listen right, you’ll hear

A murmuring of wings.

My grandma says it’s more than fun

And hanging up your stocking.

It’s knowing any needy one

Might be the Savior knocking.

It’s helping those who feel the rod

Of grief and heavy labors.

I guess it’s being nice to God

By loving all your neighbors.

o   Gaki recognized Hilda’s keen mind and boundless curiosity.  When a teen-ager, he constructed a reading list of the greats of all time and would discuss with her what she learned in her reading.  Can you even imagine such an experience?  I wish I had been there!  Consequently, college was a breeze, and she was through in record time.

o   When she decided to go to law school in 1960, which was unheard of at the time for a woman, he encouraged her and quietly paid for her books and I am sure a couple tuitions, for she was now unexpectedly a single parent of 3.  Strong but near silent support was his way.

Memories of the Grandchildren

·         There were 10 of us grandchildren.  I talked with the 3 that I could. My brother Robin was one of two boys, and I was the youngest. Elaine and Maxi were the oldest grand kids and my sister Gail was older than Robin. Gaki was incredibly important and impactful to all of us.

·         Cousins Maxie and Elaine, daughters of son Sigurd, lived with Nanny and Gaki for a time. 

o   Maxie remembers “how KIND a person Gaki was, a very dear person. He had a way of being there for each and all of us. As “wubs” we would gather around him sitting in his library in Columbia while he told us real life stories about the Indian Nation. He would show us the peace pipe and many other items.  He loved gemstones. He would bring out a box full of them and he explained their wonders. We lived for a time on Gaki’s Farm. He was as much into caring for his animals as for us wubs. Sometimes he would wake us up early and take us down to the kitchen and make us old fashioned buttermilk pancakes.”

o   Elaine thought of Nanny as ‘Mother Earth’, the caregiver of living things and Gaki as the “cosmic giant”, the universal interpreter. As a preschooler, her learnings came direct from Gaki reciting to Mona from his works and readings in the living room.  She found especially delightful the Gaki walks to the pasture, hearing the good thoughts of the day, learning to listen and identify nature sounds at night and especially reciting the bedtime prayer he wrote for the wubs:

Great Spirit, you are everywhere. You made the lovely earth and air

You made the creek that runs and sings, and everything with legs or wings.

You made each blade of grass and tree, and all the little girls like me.

So good is everything you made, that I shall never be afraid.

Great Spirit, teach me what to do, so I can be as good as you.

o   He also wrote grace which we recited before meals:

Thank you for the world so sweet,

Thank you for the food we eat,

Thank you for the birds that sing,

Thank you, God, for everything!

At that moment Nanny would chime in “and I do mean EVERYTHING, the good and the bad.”

o   Elaine further remembers: “Even Dr George Cat faithfully joined our lessons.  And, oh how the whole scene expanded my universe!  This feeling of rising above the known to touch the unknown made an indelible imprint on my mind.  From the teachings of Black Elk that Gaki told us about, I became enthralled with the balance of all living things.”

·         My sister Gail:  I wish I had been able to talk with Gail for this reflection today!  She knew him well and corresponded with him steadily.  I remember her saying often that whenever assigned a research paper, her first thought was Gaki and his library. She didn’t leave our country home to drive to the High School or city library, she drove to Skyrim to talk to Gaki about her assignment. He NEVER failed to have a book in his vast library that discussed the subject, and he always knew exactly where every book was! He never failed to be able to direct her in ways to think about the subject.  It was a bad day for the rest of us when he donated his library to the University of Missouri in Columbia.

·         My brother Robin:  El Capitan!

o   “My parents were having a bit of a secret war, kept secret at least from us kids. So my mother took us from California to Missouri to visit with her mom and dad, my Grandparents, Gaki and Mona. My little sister, Coralie was probably nearly 2, so that made me 7 or so and Gail, 9 or so. I remember being thrust into this new location with lovely people I hardly knew, but feeling welcomed and cared about.

o   Once, I remember standing in front of my grandfather while he was trying to take a nap in the middle of the day. He commented to me that a nap was a kind of working and was necessary. I noted that he was at home with kids and seemed to love them and want to be around them.

o   He also was the proud owner and master of El Capitan! This was, by my accounting, a truly amazing machine. As I grew up, I realized that the magnificent machine was only a little garden tractor. But Gaki had a way of making everything a fabulous adventure. El Capitan was faded red and rusty – and beautiful! Gaki told me, most assuredly, that El Capitan was so powerful and fast that he could climb a tree with it! I can still hear him chuckling over it.

o   Back then, over 70 years ago, gas engines did not have electric starters, or even self-recoiling starter ropes. This engine had a round cylinder attached to the crank shaft, that had a notch in which to insert a knotted piece of clothes- line rope. He would insert the knot and wrap the rope several times around the cylinder. Then, with a mighty pull, he would cause the engine to turn over a few cycles. He would quickly grab at the choke and accelerator and get the engine running! A very impressive feat through my eyes! He would idle down the engine and look over his glasses at me with a grin on his face and a look of triumph. He was master of El Capitan!

o   He attached a small flat-bed wagon to it, and then the adventure began. He loaded up Gail and Coralie and me, and my cousins Lynn and Erica. My grandmother made a very special picnic lunch and loaded it on the flat-bed and we were off. I think my mother and grandmother were pleased to be staying home and having a break from us kids. But Gaki was all in and took off through the pastures down a little worn trail, past the pond, and into a small woods of hickory, oak and elm trees. He recited some of his lyrics, and told us of wonderful things; things and ideas that I did not understand until I was much older. However, the memories stayed with me and what he talked about made me want to be more than I thought I was.”   That was a profound and common legacy of being around John Neihardt.

·         El Capitan and the flatbed wagon were key equipment for the family picnics and the Fourth of July celebrations. With great respect and dignity, we participated in the raising and lowering and folding of the flag.  And Lord, we mustn’t drop it.

·         Robin:  That’s No Way To Do.

o   I am 7 years old and I am going with my grandfather, John Neihardt, to Oregon. He needs to visit with Mrs. Aly who is writing a book about him. It so happens that she has a son of a similar age, and I am elected to accompany him on the trip. The trip is set, and all arrangements are made. At last, the day of departure arrives. I am stunned and a bit terrified as we walk out on to the tarmac at the airport to climb up the steps into a huge 4 engine propeller plane.

o    Gaki had purchased a couple of sandwiches in the terminal and was carrying them in a little bag as we boarded the plane. A beautiful woman in a blue uniform smiled at us and took us to our seats. We were sitting in our seats waiting while the plane filled with passengers. Gaki asked me if I thought it would be a good time to eat our sandwiches, and being 7 and hungry, I agreed without a doubt that it would be the perfect time to eat. He handed me my sandwich wrapped in paper. I opened the wrapper and tore into the sandwich, chomping the whole thing in minutes. My grandfather ate one half and wrapped up the remaining half in the paper wrapper, put it in the sack and put the sack in the storage pocket in the seat in front of us.

o   The engines started one at a time and soon all were roaring, which was a bit scary to me yet very exciting. The plane taxied to the runway, then bolted down it and leapt into the sky. I was enthralled and wanted to look out the window and was amazed how the things on the ground were getting smaller and smaller. After a while Gaki leaned back in his seat and went to sleep.

o   Being left to my own devices, I looked out the window a while and looked about the cabin a bit. Then I looked out the window some more and then looked back into the cabin. I glanced at the seat in front of us and noticed the little paper bag. I looked out the window some more, but my eyes kept going to that little paper bag. Why didn’t he eat the whole sandwich? Was he just not hungry? I looked out the window. If he didn’t want the sandwich, is he just going to throw it away when the plane landed? I looked out the window.  It would be a terrible waste to throw away a perfectly good half a sandwich, and I really was still hungry. I glanced out the window, but I could not get that wasted half a sandwich out of my mind. He is asleep, obviously isn’t hungry, and is going to throw it away when he wakes up. Right? Right? Right!

o   So, my little hands reached for the bag, pulled it out of the seat pocket. As I opened the bag, my stomach told me this was the correct action and since I was hungry, I should eat the sandwich, which I did. When I was done, I put the empty bag back into the seat pocket.

o   A while later, Gaki woke up and sat up in his seat. He talked to me a bit and then told me that he thought he would eat the rest of his sandwich. I was horrified and shrank back in my seat. He reached for the bag and pulled it out of the seat pocket. When he found it empty, he put it back into the seat pocket. He looked over at me, I am sure I was in tears by then. He said simply, “Robin, that is no way to do”. He did not speak of it again, and we talked and visited while the plane landed.

o   The lesson I learned that day remains with me to this day. It has very little to do with eating a sandwich, but so much more!

·         Coralie and Erica: 

o   My cousin Erica and I were closest in age and played together often.  One of my most hilarious memories is of playing cards with Gaki.  Erica started the kind of little kid giggle that gets louder the more you try to be quiet.  I asked her what she was laughing at, and she whispered to me in an equally loud little kid whisper. We were both giggling then, because we could see his cards reflected in his glasses. We were just so very clever at winning the game. He chuckled too, knowing certainly why we were laughing, little kids don’t whisper quietly, but he continued to play the game for the fun of the moment, even though we were cheating grievously. I think that he just liked to hear us giggle uncontrollably. In retrospect, I do believe he adjusted the cards often, so they were even more visible reflected in his glasses. 

·         Coralie: 

o   Growing up under the influence of John and Mona, and of course by extension Black Elk, was like living in church, but I didn’t understand that then.  God was everywhere and in everything.  Our childhood prayers and grace made that clear.  As storms would gather black clouds roiling, I would go to a hilltop and lie in the grass and watch the theater.  Attending an indoor church seemed oh so unnecessary!  I was an April Theology kind of kid down to my roots. When kindly meaning parents of my childhood friends wanted to save the little heathen by inviting me to join my friend at their church, I went happily.  I couldn’t understand the difference I felt about the world as they saw it and how I felt it was, and I was confused.  I remember vividly the shock and open hostility from the Sunday school teachers when I naively questioned why they didn’t think God was everywhere?  They wanted me to only focus on a tortured man on a cross that made me so sad. Growing up I always had a feeling of being different from my peers, which I didn’t understand then.

o   Being near Gaki you felt a presence you relished without really understanding it.  But you wanted to experience it. I remember a teenage moment of sadness, standing in the kitchen at the counter, heavy in thought, however I don’t know what the current adolescent crisis was.  Gaki came over and stood beside me leaning against the kitchen counter.  He didn’t say a thing. I didn’t say a thing.  We just felt. Then he said “sometimes it is tough growing up” and he left the kitchen.  That was all that was needed to feel his support and that all would be ok. I wish I had shared my tragedy of the moment to learn what he would have advised.

o   When I was 20, he was in the last months of his life.  I was attending the university in Kansas City when he asked to be moved from Lincoln and return to my mother’s house in Columbia MO.  He knew the end was near and wanted to be with his family.  Despite a heavy class load, I wanted and needed to spend as much time with him as I could.  Every weekend I drove to Columbia to be with him. I felt very close to him. I adored him. As did everyone. Caught up in my world, I was not yet old enough to be able to really engage about the deeper things of life about which he could have taught me so much.  I have had to learn from reading his writing and connecting the dots of personal and familial experience.  But the awareness of massive, missed opportunity will always haunt me. Darn being the youngest!

o   During those precious months, I had the privilege of working with him on his second volume of his autobiography.  His eyes were failing him so I would read back to him what he had written and he would instruct changes he wanted to make. I would then type it up for his further review.  Those were precious times as there was a “something” about sitting next to him that is difficult to describe.  I think it was partly his intense joy of living and the breadth of his world view. Though the working sessions were shorter due to his increasing weakness, his mind was always as sharp as ever. I marveled at his ability to make corrections and improvements  to his text from hearing it rather than seeing the words.

o   I was privileged to be a primary caregiver during his last weeks and days.  The day before he died, he asked me to shave him.  I was surprised that he could even think of such an inconsequential thing as he was clearly fading rapidly and spent most of the time asleep.  I apparently didn’t do a good enough job for him to meet his maker clean-shaven, and after feeling his face he said “Coralie, don’t you think I know the difference between shaved and not?”  Crying a little hysterically, I explained I had never shaved a man before and was being careful.  I guess I did better the second time as he felt his face, patted my hand and fell back to sleep. 

We lost our dear Wub-Master November 3, 1972.

But.. an Eagle came to say good-bye, as recorded in A Broidered Garment.

o   “In accordance with the family’s long custom, they gathered again in 1973 for Thanksgiving dinner at the home where John had died [about three weeks before]. Something wonderful happened on that day. Robin was with others in the yard outside his mother’s hilltop house when he called out “Look!  There’s an eagle!”

o   Indeed, there was a bald eagle, and it flew low over the house in a counterclockwise circle, went a short distance to the south, then returned and flew, again in a counterclockwise circle over the house and very close to the rooftop. Alice and her daughters arrived just in time to see the eagle fly away to the south. Excited, granddaughter Lynn exclaimed “I have never seen an eagle before in my whole life!”  None of us had, as eagles were not in Missouri at that time.

o   The family did not know how, nor did they try, to explain it, but the unexpected and entirely unusual appearance of the eagle gave them a warm and uplifted feeling.  They could only think of Neihardt’s good friend, the Sioux holy man Black Elk. Eagles were Black Elk’s thing.”  Or was the beloved father and grandfather telling the family he was so devoted to as he wrote in Eagle Voice Remembers “Hold Fast, There is More”?

In family letters, Gaki often lamented that his writing didn’t do enough to support his family financially as he would have liked.  But, you know, he made us all “feel rich” in the things that really matter.