The Death of a Brother I received the news the other day that an old friend had passed suddenly. He was not much older than myself. He was a warrior and part of our “team” from long ago. Admittedly I lost touch over the years though I found myself thinking of Fred often. Occasionally I would hear that he had left Massachusetts and moved back to the Rez in North Dakota. He was Native American. My memories were of a generous man; kind, patient, and always willing to spend time with the children in hopes they would one day respect the earth and carry on the legacy of many generations before – that of protectors and stewards of the Land. Yet he was a warrior and as such capable of taking care of himself in dangerous situations. Back in the day Fred, Mark, Jeff and myself thought of ourselves as a team of like-minded soldiers: a cross between the crew in the movie Point Break and the current Bin Laden dispensing Seal Team 6. We were tight, trusted one another, and ready for anything that we