As a cultural anthropologist, Lerch 

 collected information about present- 

 day members and their life histories to 

 reconstruct a cohesive description of 

 their group. 



"It's always useful or helpful to 

 have historical information or, if 

 possible, prehistorical information," 

 Lerch says. "But as a cultural anthro- 

 pologist, I'm interested in what people 

 say about what they do and in observ- 

 ing what they do." 



From about 1982 to 1984, she 

 logged hundreds of oral histories; dug 

 into wills, deeds and other county 

 records; scanned U.S. Census records; 

 scouted grave sites; and read family 

 Bibles. Her report showed a long 

 history of the Waccamaws working 

 and worshipping together as one 

 people. 



"I think that what they've gotten 

 out of it," Lerch says, "is a greater 

 sense of their own community and its 



relationship with other communities. 

 Oral traditions are strong there. 

 They've always had a strong sense of 

 who they are, but they have to deal 

 with the outside world. I helped them 

 support what they felt they already 

 knew." 



A drama written by tribal 

 member Shirley Freeman around 

 1983 continues one of the tribe's 

 most colorful oral traditions. "Over 

 the Waters" tells the legend of Lake 

 Waccamaw's formation by a giant 

 fireball that fell from the sky. It 

 explains the tribe's title as the People 

 of the Fallen Star. 



After a long run, the drama 

 fizzled. But the WSDA obtained a 

 grant from the N.C. Humanities 

 Council to keep the legend living by 

 converting the drama into a puppet 

 show. 



Through the generations, Wac- 

 camaws have passed down by words 

 other traditions as simple as caning a 

 chair bottom with cattail reeds to 

 herbal remedies for colic. Religion 

 thrives in the close-knit community 

 of about 1,800 people because that's 

 the way it's always been, members 

 say. 



"The religion has played a big 

 part, and it really doesn't have to be 

 any type of labelized religion," 

 Moore says. "It's not a faith, it's just 

 the Indian way. ... There's nothing 

 that you do in this community that 

 there's not a prayer." 



Members fear that some tradi- 

 tions are slipping away as elder 

 members die. Tribal elders such as 

 Bertha Patrick and Joe L. Patrick still 

 practice medicine the old way, with 

 natural cures. And few know how to 

 "talk the fire" out of a bum anymore 

 like Vera Mitchell. A few of the 

 crafts, too, may soon be lost. 



"Things like this, the things we 



do here, it's taught but it's not always 

 handed down," Moore admits. 



Yet hope endures. 



"The youth are getting more 



A DRAMA WRITTEN 

 BY TRIBAL MEMBER 

 SHIRLEY FREEMAN 

 AROUND 1983 

 CONTINUES 

 ONE OF THE TRIBE'S 

 MOST COLORFUL 

 ORAL TRADITIONS. 

 "OVER THE WATERS" 

 TELLS THE LEGEND OF 

 LAKE WACCAMAWS 



FORMATION 

 BY A GIANT FIREBALL 

 THAT FELL 

 FROM THE SKY. 

 IT EXPLAINS THE 



TRIBE'S TITLE 

 AS THE PEOPLE 

 OF THE FALLEN STAR, 



involved," Moore says. "It seems 

 like the youth are getting more 

 interested in their heritage, basically 

 because of things like dancing, the 

 workshops." 



They want the powwows to be 

 more authentic, reflecting the 

 Waccamaws' true heritage, Chief 

 Jacobs says. "They want things to be 

 done the way they were hundreds of 

 years ago. ... This generation is 

 fighting for that. They don't want to 

 forsake the cultural heritage for a 

 dollar." 



For her, it's a proud history worth 

 preserving. 



"My Indian heritage is something 

 to be proud of, and I don't want to 

 see it die out," she says. "To me, the 

 Waccamaw tribe is special. ... We 

 were on the coast. Lake Waccamaw, 

 the legend — all of this just makes 

 Waccamaw great." [3 



COASTWATCH 19 



