National Geographic August 2012 [antikvár]

^mmm mm'm 1 'I 'i'' ¦ •' ' !' '^/i,',;'}',!./' .' ^ I',"' I '' 'll i',1 ' I' ll i il''', i" ¦ ri'i, ii^ ¦ 't:, ,r ' rl' ,! .-I'l' i, ! ¦ 1 ¦ 'II j'tlh y-i'.r I'. :,', . i . I . i ' I ' . ,'m i i;! r,' i' Il / 'i • ' V ! i;M,V; >1 H, 'i'i¦ !1 .l i'S; / I.), I I I, I 'i . I'i ¦ ' ' I ' I ¦ I ¦ ¦I , . I 1 ¦I ' . • ¦ : . , I I'i / ¦• ' ,1 " I -l I 'r. f' I: I ,1' "!'.pK ' : ' , .'I ' .' I : :| I, V' Kl'uV^ ' i- ^•y'i 'B! , 'i' ¦ 'i 11-'(I i I '' V ' BY ALEXANDRA FULLER PHOTOGRAPHS BY AARON HUEY ALMOST EVERY HISTORICAL atrocity has a geographically symbolic core, a place whose name conjures up the trauma of a whole people: Auschwitz, Robben Island, Nanjing. For the Oglala Lakota of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation that place is a site near Wounded Knee Creek, 16 miles northeast of the town of Pine Ridge. From a distance the hill is unremarkable, another picturesque tree-spotted mound in the creased prairie. But here at the mass grave of all those who were killed on a winter morning more than a century ago, it's easy to beUeve that certain energies—acts of tremendous violence and of transcendent love—hang in the air forever and possess a forever half-life. Alex White Plume, a 60-year-old Oglala Lakota activist, lives with his family and extended family on a 2,000-acre ranch near Wounded Knee Creek. White Plume's land is lovely beyond any singing, rolling out from sage-covered knolls to creeks bruised with late summer lush-ness. From certain aspects, you can see the Badlands, all sun-bleached spires and scoured pinnacles. And looking another way, you can see the horizon-crowning darkness of the Black Hills of South Dakota. One hot and humid day in early August, 36 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC • AUGUST 2012