Stone Gardens: A child of the Oklahoma prairie rose to help bring the Cherokee Nation into the 21st century

The gravel road to Echota Cemetery in Adair County winds through strawberry fields and rolling green hills outside Stilwell.

The stone reads

:WILMA P. MANKILLER

NOV. 18, 1945 – APR. 6, 201

"I want to be remembered as the person who helped us restore faith in ourselves"

"DEPUTY PRINCIPAL CHIEF 1983-1985

PRINCIPAL CHIEF 1985-1995

WE LOVE YOU

That's the truth she wanted carved in stone.

Wilma Pearl Mankiller was born November 18, 1945, in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, the sixth of eleven kids.

Her family lived on Mankiller Flats, a piece of land given to her grandpa after the Cherokee people were forced to walk the Trail of Tears in the 1830s.

Life was hard. No running water. No electricity. An outhouse out back.

When Wilma was 11, the government moved her family to San Francisco, promising jobs and a better life. Instead, they landed in a rough city neighborhood.

Kids made fun of her Okie accent. She felt lost

But Wilma was tough. She once said, “I learned early that crying doesn’t get the house painted or the corn planted.”

In 1969, something changed everything. Native college students took over Alcatraz Island to fight for tribal rights.

Wilma was 24. She started visiting the island, bringing food and supplies. For the first time, she felt proud to be Cherokee.

She decided to spend her life fighting for her people. She moved back to Oklahoma in 1976.

She started small, helping Cherokee families get clean water and fix up their homes. People noticed.

In 1983, she ran for Deputy Chief of the Cherokee Nation. Some men said a woman couldn’t do the job. Wilma won anyway.

In1985, the Principal Chief quit. Wilma became the first woman ever to lead the Cherokee Nation, the second-largest tribe in the United States. She built health clinics. Fixed roads. Started job programs. Got kids excited about Cherokee language and culture.

Under her watch, the tribe grew stronger and healthier.

She wasn’t perfect. Some people disagreed with her choices. But even her critics admitted that she worked harder than anyone.

Wilma’s body started breaking down. Car wreck. Kidney failure. Cancer. In 2010, pancreatic cancer came knocking. She fought it the same way she fought everything--full speed, no complaints.

On April 6, 2010, at home on Mankiller Flats, surrounded by family, Wilma took her last breath. She was 64.

Ten thousand people came to say goodbye. The Cultural Center in Tahlequah overflowed. Cherokee veterans carried her casket. Drums echoed. People wore traditional ribbon shirts and tear dresses.

Speakers told stories of how Wilma helped them by fixing their roof, getting their kid a doctor, and standing up when no one else would.

President Obama sent a statement. Gloria Steinem spoke. Bill Clinton called her “a giant.”

Then they carried her home. On a sunny April day, family and friends walked up the hill at Echota Cemetery. Wilma had picked the spot herself that was close to her ancestors, looking out over the land she loved . They lowered her casket. A Cherokee hymn filled the air.

Someone placed strawberries on the grave, representing Stilwell’s famous crop.

Another left a tiny pair of moccasins for the journey. Then everyone stood quiet. No big speeches. Just the wind in the cedar trees

Today, kids learn about Wilma in school. There’s a U.S. quarter with her face coming out soon. Ships and buildings carry her name. But the real legacy isn’t metal or stone.

t’s every Cherokee girl who sees that headstone and thinks, “If Wilma could do it, maybe I can too.” It’s every person who remembers: one woman from a dirt-floor house changed a nation.

Next time you drive past Echota Cemetery, slow down. Roll the window down. You might hear her voice on the wind, telling you the same thing she told everyone: “Don’t just sit there. Do something.”

Wilma Mankiller did.

And the Cherokee Nation, as well as the world, is better because of it.