Standing On My Grandpa’s Footprints 75 Years After He Raised His Hand
Today is May the 4th. To many it’s a day to reference Star Wars (May the Fourth be with you) but to me it’s a date which forever marks an important moment not only in my family history but world history. And as of three years ago, it became a date greatly more amplified in significance to me.
On May 4, 1942, my grandfather, Carl N. Gorman, and 28 other Navajo men were sworn into the US Marine Corps at Fort Wingate, NM. These 29 men are known as The First Twenty-nine Navajo Code Talkers. Or as many deem them, the original Navajo Code Talkers of World War II.
The First Twenty-nine Navajo Code Talkers get sworn in
Every year I write a post to honor this prestigious group on this date but today is a little surreal since I realize I’m the same age my grandfather was when he raised his right hand on that afternoon and cemented a place in history.
My grandfather was the oldest man of the original group. Many of the Navajo Code Talkers lied about their age to serve and my grandpa was no exception, other than he made himself younger in order to serve in the military. He was 33.
So as I sat writing a smaller post for my Instagram page, I felt a desire to share more about what this day means to me now. Three years ago I stood exactly where my grandpa and these men were sworn in. I stood where they stood exactly 75 years later on May 4, 2017. I stood on my grandpa’s footprints 75 years after he raised his hand to serve in World War II before he knew he was going to be a Navajo Code Talker.
Three years ago, as I was writing a post for Facebook, I realized it was the 75th anniversary of when the First Twenty-nine were sworn in. I immediately sent a text to my mom and asked if she realized this. She didn’t. I told my older brother about it as well. Soon after, my brother, his girlfriend, and I were in the car driving to Gallup, NM from Albuquerque, NM to pick up my mom. We didn’t have a plan other than to share why this date was important. My brother and I went live on Facebook several times to inform others about the Navajo Code Talkers. While we didn’t have a plan and much of what we were doing was impromptu, it became clear we wanted to visit Fort Wingate. The question became, “Are the buildings seen in the national archive photographs from the day the First Twenty-nine were sworn-in standing still?”
We drove the back roads up to Fort Wingate in my brother’s little Nissan Sentra. The area is occupied still. There is a school near by but the road to the section where the First Twenty-nine were sworn-in and spent their afternoon eating before leaving for California was closed off. I forget who made the call but we asked if someone would be willing to let us in after telling them who we were and why we wanted to enter. Sure enough, a gentlemen in a white truck met us and let us pass - Thank you, sir!
Anthony and his Mom, Zonnie Gorman, standing at Ft. Wingate
Photo by: Michael Anaya-Gorman
For the next hour and half, we pulled out our iPhones comparing the images from 75 years ago. Dissecting where the men stood on the now cracked pavement, what time they were likely sworn in based on the shadows on the ground, and took notice of the windows and ledges where the boys who attended the boarding school in 1942 witnessed history in the making. Yes, the primary building is there still but we weren’t able to enter it since it was a stipulation for us being allowed into the location. I walked around with my camera and took some photographs - a couple are below. As I wondered around I imagined what my grandpa was thinking and feeling during that day. I wondered if the air was as fresh. I felt proud being there. My mind referenced the photographs from that day where the men ate together with smiles on their faces which made me approach the building and look in as best as I could and think about the laughs and words exchanged that day by all of the men who were sworn in on that day. BUT the one moment that amplified the meaningfulness of this day was toward the end of us leaving when a group of horses appeared. They stopped and stared at us as we looked back upon them. They were maybe 50 meters from us. Soon they ran toward us and then made an abrupt turn left and galloped away. Why was this meaningful?
My grandfather was an incredible artist. After the war, he used his GI Bill to attend the Otis Art Institute in Los Angeles, California. He mastered many art mediums including tile work, sculpture, and painting. One image my grandpa incorporated into his work regularly was horses. So much so that horses and my grandpa are synonymous thoughts. Therefore, when we saw the horses, we knew my grandpa was there with us. My mom and brother and I knew it was my Cheíí. No doubt of it. He stood along side us on this journey. It’s a feeling and an experience I’ll remember forever.
As you can tell, this date is a part of me evermore now and it’s a part of my own journey to carry on the Navajo Code Talker legacy. Heck, it’s bigger than that! I grew up with my grandpa but I wish time, age, and wisdom overlapped to have more conversations with him. For as long as I can remember I had the strongest tie to my grandfather. I speak of him often but as I grow older I realize how much more wisdom I seek from him. I find the same to be true for my grandma, who was instrumental in getting the Navajo Code Talkers their medals in 2001. Oh how I wish I could sit with her at the dinner table again and soak up all of her knowledge and kindness. Of course, these feelings hold true for my mom as well, who is the foremost expert on the First Twenty-Nine Navajo Code Talkers. She’s dedicated her life to researching the Navajo Code Talkers. It admirable to say the least. Gratefully, my mom is still alive and to stand with her where her father stood on that day multiplies the meaningfulness beyond words. Its been a conscious blessing to begin to ask her questions that so many wish they did sooner. It’s been wonderful to be actively involved with her continued research on the Navajo Code Talkers, while shaping my own path on their legacy.
But a path built on footprints from May 4, 1942
To learn more about my grandfather, I recommend reading his biography, The Power of a Navajo. The book is out of print but still available for purchase. Most libraries consider his book a special collection and will not allow you to leave the library with it.
Anthony Anaya-Gorman is an actor, photographer, and speaker based out of New York City. Anthony speaks about growing up with his grandfather, Carl N. Gorman, and many of the other Navajo Code Talkers of World War II.
*This article does contain affiliate links and helps me produce content and do my part of spreading personal and historical information about the Navajo Code Talkers.