THE "BILLY SWANSON" SAGA OF CRESTON, B.C.

     Billy Swanson was a North American Indian, Born to a Sub-Chief of  a North American Indian Tribe located in the Creston, B.C./ Bonner's Ferry, Idaho area of Canada and the United States.
     Since Creston and Bonner's Ferry were located only 35 miles apart, both close to the International Border crossing of Port Hill, the native Indians were, and I understand still are, allowed to cross freely back and forth across the border separating the two nations.
     Until 30 years ago or so, there were Wagon-type trails whereby the two Reservations could pass freely across the border without having to pass through official crossings.
     This will be important to my story later on.
     In Canada, at the Start of World War 2 with Germany and Japan, Billy Swanson, although free from the draft anyway, enlisted in the Canadian Army, and being the proficient hunter and marksman that he naturally was raised to be, volunteered and trained as a sniper.
     He was soon to be shipped overseas and into the midst of battle, where he served honorably until the end of the war.
     As a lot of returning soldiers did, Billy decided to return home to the reservation just 1 mile out of Creston as a surprise to his wife. Unfortunately, and very disappointing to Billy, he arrived home to find her with another Indian "Buck", as the males were commonly referred to in those days.
     He calmly chased the man out of their quarters and then in a fit of rage, killed her with an axe. It was a nasty deed that, later when I became familiar with him, I'm sure haunted him the rest of his life.
     But having done it, along with his rifle, survival gear and necessary staples, he simply vanished into the forest and hills with no trace of where he went. He simply vanished!
     Since it was such a horrific event, every one throughout the area on both sides of the Border, heard about it quickly.(It was to remain a mystery for quite some time, since the Law enforcement on both sides of the Canada/U.S. boundary were wary of even attempting to hunt him down.)
     It seemed about a year or so later, that there was finally an announcement on the various news stations that Billy had been arrested by the local Sheriff's Dept. in Bonner's Ferry, Idaho. His concealment had been kept a secret by the local Indian tribes, mainly due to no love lost between the Native Indians and the White population at the time.
     The reason? They weren't allowed to live according to the same rules as us. A fact that I always felt unfair, myself.
     As was usually the case, the American Indians were receiving subsistence money, similar to welfare benefits from the Federal and State Gov'ts.
     With alcohol being the "White man's" scourge, (Which it really was.) a lot of their money went to various alcoholic-related demands. Not to mention the local law establishments getting their hands quickly on what money they had in their possession at the time while arrested for being inebriated.
     It was a well known fact to everyone concerned at the time. "Clockwork arrest time.", you might say. (The end of each month.)
     Apparently Billy had slipped across the border, joining members of his tribe there, remaining un-noted, and since being a native, no one really paid attention to who he might be.
     But eventually, Billy was discovered after being arrested for drunkenness on the streets of Bonner's Ferry. He was in jail along with a band of his friends.
     After being transported back to B.C., he was promptly convicted of  murder, for which he was sentenced to 25 years. He was released from a B.C. prison only after having served 8 years and credited for good behavior.
     I only knew the scant details of this whole happening, having been raised in Fernie, 130 miles from Creston, B.C., further East in the Kootenays.
     I must explain the area a little more uniquely: From Thirty miles east of Fernie and the Alberta border, to the West end of Kootenay lake and Creston, B.C., The total area is within the boundaries of the East and West Kootenays. ( Kootenais being the American spelling, and Kootenays being the Canadian version. Having explained that so far, the name Kootenais is derived from the French/Algonquin tribes meaning for "River people", in reference to the Blackfeet/ Crows Nest Indian tribes.
      In 1960, I, along with my wife Darlene and our first two boys, moved to live in her home town of Creston, B.C.
     I was continuing my career as a surveyor during the day, working on the bridge across the Kootenay River just outside of Creston for a company called Northern Construction, a subsidiary of an American Co. called Morrison/Knutsen. As a supplement to my income, I also worked as a night-time and week-end bartender at the Kootenay hotel in Creston. 
     Circa 1961, B.C. changed the drinking laws concerning the Native Indians, allowing them to inhabit the beer parlors, liquor stores and cocktail lounges, along with the other citizens of the Province.
     False projections and rumors were that there would be a lot of problems due to Indians not being able to handle their liquor very well.
     It turned out, not to be the case at all. In fact, I'll venture to say from my own experience as a bartender, they were considerably less trouble than the usual roust-abouts from everyone else.
     Having heard the story of Billy Swanson almost as legend, he was a middle-aged, well groomed Native around the age of fifty, who would often come in for a few beers, converse with me as we passed the time of day, as you do in establishments like that during the quiet, slow times. He was always polite, quiet and alone.
     His intelligence and mannerisms were a step above what you might expect from the average patron, and I enjoyed our conversations when he did show up.
     Sometime along the way, I asked him out of curiosity, what his name was. He responded with, "It's Billy. Billy Swanson". He had already known mine.
     He told me his story from the time he got out of prison, which added to the famous or infamous saga I had already heard about his past. We never discussed that.
     Billy's parents apparently had reclaimed property from the dyking off of the Kootenay lake before Billy went to prison, to prevent the flooding of the then granted Indian Reservation land that was useless due to yearly flooding. That land became the most fertile farmland in all of B.C., so I was told. Thousands of acres, some of which, Billy's parents owned.
     Billy's parents passed away sometime around when Billy was released from prison and the land sold to local farmers to the tune of  $68,000.00. At that time, it would have been the equivalent of $2,000,000.00 now.
     Billy very quickly acquired many friends in a short period of time, mostly Native Indians who tagged along for the "free ride". It lasted only a few short years during which time, they were all learning to drive Billy's new cars as quickly as he and his friends could wreck them.
     It was one big party time. All these happenings, years before I moved to Creston in 1960.
     Sometime, around 1962, Billy, although long broke, was still trailed by the fact that he once had money, so some of the misinformed Reservation Indians around Bonner's Ferry Idaho, thought he still had.
     One night, Billy was drinking with some of his tag-along friends in a bar there, and after a time, they decided to move to another bar by way of the back door, where there was less chance of the Deputies being around. (As bartenders, we encouraged them to do that.)
     As they were leaving in the darkness of the alley, they were confronted by some of the other local Natives coming in. Apparently there was a noted tough guy in the crowd who, being loaded with false courage, asked Billy for some money. Billy explained he had spent his money years before. Not believing Billy, he proceeded to rough Billy up.
     Truly believing his life was in danger, He pulled out a knife, and being the expert he was from his sniper training years prior, cut the guy's throat from ear to ear.
     They all left, to continue their partying for the night, including the ones who were accompanying the other man, prior to the incident.
     Later that evening,, they were all arrested for being drunk and tossed in jail for the duration of the night.
     During the rest of their graveyard shift, Sheriff's deputies were called to investigate the discovery of the body of a Reservation Indian outside the back door of the bar.
     Puzzled by the discovery, the word got around inside the jail, at which point Billy spoke up and told them matter-of-factly, he had done it, and told his story, which was corroborated by all the other Indians.
      In a surprise to all concerned, no charges were filed.
     Billy went on to live out the remainder of his life without incident, as far as I know. Having moved to Seattle in 1976, I lost track of Billy, but have since been told he eventually passed away from cancer.
     I had no convictions in my own mind about Billy, but realize he was wrong concerning his wife.
     It was a rage he inherited from a previous time, and I'll leave it that way.
     I only know that he shouldn't be deprived of the fact he was a War hero who, after all, was trained to be the fighter that he was.
     As far as the money was concerned, it was his to do with as he wished, and he took his liberty and did just that.
     I do know this; He once told me he appreciated me for having talked to him as respectfully as I did.
     Just sayin'.