Arizona Republic from Phoenix, Arizona • Page 6

A6 THE ARIZONA REPUBLIC MONDAY, MAY 26, 1986 fr Clough's wife, Lisa, Sunday event. The Tim Rogers Republic held Lindsay's other hand in the Cloughs are Tucson residents. Victor Clough has one hand occupied with his 2-year-old daughter, Sharon, so he stretches his leg out to his other daughter, Lindsay, 4, to maintain a unbroken line in Hands Across America near Bolivian Indians join Hopis and IMavajos along state's route 'Express' line links tough mile Navajos join in effort, but wide gaps prevail By LOUIS SAHAGUN Los Angelet Tlmaa NAVAJO Against a backdrop of parched rangelands and mesas tinged with brilliant hues of red and orange, an unlikely gathering of American Express employees and Navajos clasped hands beneath a blazing sun. Hands Across America officials had billed the lonely, mirror-flat stretch of Interstate 40 running through this tiny hamlet about 70 miles west of Gallup, New Mexico, as among the "toughest miles" in the nation to fill. They were probably right On either side of the Vh -mile-long chain of more than 1,000 corporate employees and more than 100 Navajos who turned out Sunday, was an unbroken vista of sage ana sky.

A few dared to take a stand alone, far from the huge, blue hot-air balloons that marked the mile claimed by American Express. One of these forlorn specks in the desert was Eleanor Brown, 19, a Navajo from Ganado whose only companion was a transistor radio. "I'm just here under the sun waving at everyone driving by," she said. But the American Express brigade of 1,320 employees and their families bused here from Salt Lake City and Phoenix on Saturday will not soon be forgotten. As locals watched in amazement, the city slickers efficiently erected a self-contained tent city while Merl Haggard's Big City Turn Me Loose and Set Me Free blared from a sound system.

Saturday night, the group ate a barbecue dinner, listened to live rock music and danced beneath a huge tent as dozens of security guards kept outsiders away. The shindig cost American Express about $150,000 about $33,000 of which went to Hands Across America said Jerry C. Welsh, executive vice president, worldwide marketing. Arizona Gov. Bruce Babbitt stood in the line with the corporate contingent Susanne Cordell, 39, of Phoenix, and her daughter, Rebeccah Griggs, 9, were among the comfortable campers.

"Tomorrow, we will hold hands around the world and everybody that cares about the homeless and hungry will join in," Rebeccah said. "I care, my mom cares and all these people care," she said waving a hand across the 10-acre campsite that had been cleared of natural sage and salt bush by bulldozers. "So much for erosion control," said a ranger from nearby Petrified Forest National Park. A powwow sponsored by Native Hands Across America and designed to bring 100,000 Indians from across the nation to the region, was something of a disappointment. For weeks, powwow organizers had tried to lure Native American performers here with offers of $80,000 in prize money to be awarded during traditional dance contests at Red Rock State Park.

But Saturday night, embarrassed Indian leaders announced to a mere 800 spectators that only $10,000 of the prize money had materialized. The reasons were unclear. But Jerry Brown, general manager of Native Hands Across America, blamed the national Hands Across America organization for failing to come through on promises. Hands Across America leaders denied that they had promised money and said a formal alliance with the Indians never existed. "Now I know how my grandfathers felt," Brown said.

Sola, from the village of Papuquo, said, "It seems probable to us. "They are brown like we are," he said as some Hopis laughed. "They are short like we are. Of course, we are related." The Bolivians' host, John Hatch, who directs the Phoenix-based Foundation for International Community Assistance, said Hopis such as Sidney who belong to the Water clan believe they originated south of the United States. "We budgeted for their trip," Hatch said of the foundation.

"They were very anxious to get together with their North American Indian brothers. John Clark, a Winslow resident, asked, "But isn't it a little strange for this kind of get-together on the interstate near Winslow? "But with this kind of day, with people getting together to stretch across a continent, maybe it isn't so strange." Participants take advantage of shade provided by an Interstate 10 overpass near Tonopah while Illlill- SS: 1 portion of Tonopah. waiting for the 175,000 people festive New said, "I couldn't get it started!" The crowd joined in laughter. A moment later, Baca said, "No, it's a good thing. It's a good cause, and it's a nice day." Norma Garland was standing along 1-40 east of Albuquerque with her two daughters, Naomi and Lavina.

"My husband and me was in a bad way ourselves not too long ago," said Garland, of nearby San-dia Park, who drives a school bus. "We know how it is to be poor. I figure I could come out here and help others." She said her husband wanted to come, too, but was prevented by heart problems. Garland said she and her daughters didn't sign up but just came out on impulse. Naomi Garland said, "We were afraid we'd be assigned some spot in the middle of nowhere!" About 10 miles east of Albuquerque, a few feet from the traffic rushing along 1-40, Jerome Shupla Lori Cochran of Missoula, and Chicago take up places at Milepost By PAUL BRINKLEY-ROGERS Northern Arizona Bureau ALONG INTERSTATE 40 -Barbara Lomahaftewa said the big gaps in the Hands Across America line Sunday in northern Arizona were of little consequence.

"It's like the gaps in a set of teeth," she said. "You see them when you smile, but it's the smile that's important." Lomahaftewa, a Hopi, was among a group of 50 Hopis, Navajos and travelers from all over the nation that gathered at the Leupp interchange on Interstate 40, 45 miles east of Flagstaff, to join hands and sing at noon. Truckers passing the line of flag-waving, sometimes emotional participants swinging their legs in a long chorus line to music from portable radios, gave blasts from their air horns. Some cross-country drivers pulled over in response to pleas to join in. A few miles down the highway, just west of Winslow, a crowd of a different sort gathered around a bizarre assortment of celebrities.

Singer B.J. Thomas, towering above a crowd that included a TV crew, was there shaking hands and signing autographs. He was there to join singers Dottie West and Johnny Paycheck later Sunday in a concert outside a South Korean hat factory at Winslow's Ya-Hopi Industrial Park. Thomas, jostled at times, stood close to his gunmetal gray stretched Lincoln limousine with blacked-out windows, watched over by his bodyguard and a chauffeur in a full-dress gray suit. "Maybe by standing up and holding hands like this with everybody, we will be able to help the people," Thomas said.

A few yards away from Thomas was a glamorous blonde dressed in a powder-blue bikini, posing for pictures with young men in the crowd. But the crowd swirling around (those luminaries was nothing compared with the one that enveloped a group of visitors from the Bolivian Andes. The conversation there was at times cosmic. "What? How did they get here?" asked one astounded woman gaping at the band of diminutive Quechua and Aymara Indians with miniature felt hats perched on the tops of their heads. They wore blankets of brilliant colors over their shoulders and woven leather sandals on their feet.

"From Bolivia to this part of the world is a long, long way," said Porfirio Charibi-Charibi from the village of Cantupata, where he said 43 families live. "But we wanted to be here for this day." Charibi-Charibi and his friends came to Winslow, said Hopi chairman Ivan Sidney, because they wanted to meet with Hopis. "They came up here specifically requesting to join with the Hopi," said Sidney, who led several thousand Hopis to the highway. came from the area of migration of the Hopi people," he said. "You know, we believe we came from their people.

They are just like us." Asked; what he thought of the theory of common origin, Elisio call to join hands. An estimated turned out for Hands in Arizona. Mexico line pounded a drum and chanted softly as bright-costumed dancers from Isleta Pueblo strutted a Buffalo Dance on the concrete exit ramp. The dancers, from a small tribe south of Albuquerque, had their faces painted black and wore black-haired headdresses, bright-red shirts, white kilts and mocca-" sins, with bells around their waists and knees. "A long time ago, the buffalo provided food and other things for the Indian, and this dance was done to show our appreciation," Shupla said.

"Today, the dance is our way of asking for a plentiful time for all hungry people." Alvino Lucero, the governor of Isleta Pueblo, said, "Throughout the country, there is hunger and need among Indian people, and we're their blood brothers. "The U.S. government gives foreign aid overseas, but we don't get any handouts. Hopefully, our Indian people all over the country will benefit from this." Bob Guest of 94 on Inter state 1) west of the last link of Ribbons fill By WILLIAM HART Special to the Republic ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. As in Arizona, there were many gaps in the Hands Across America line in New Mexico, and much of the state was linked with ropes, ribbons and other devices where there were too few hands.

There was no problem finding hands at the corner of Tramway Boulevard and Central Avenue in Albuquerque, where the line left Interstate 40 to go through downtown. The atmosphere was noisy, colorful and festive. Radios blared on all sides and police struggled with traffic. Johnny Baca of Albuquerque, in black beard and black beret, leaned comfortably against his battered orange Subaru Brat as two extra-large stereo speakers blared a few feet from his ear. He was drinking beer out of a McDonald's cup.

Asked why he was there, Baca slapped the hood of his car and cream puffs stand in Flagstaff." Buoyant and energetic, she said she was participating because she believes that when "three people get together, their prayers are heard." "Can you imagine the electrical power from the 6 million brains across the country?" she asked, referring to the people expected to forge the chain across the nation. She called it a day that "would tip the Earth on its axis." A half-mile east of where Goulet was waving a telephone-pole-size cigar and smooching women before his liftoff, Hu Paul of Tucson took refuge under an umbrella. Paul, who as a teen had been forced out of Shanghai, China, 25 years ago by hunger and poverty, said he "would do anything to return this country's blessings." Lhyz Dix, a volunteer at Highway Baptist Church in Mesa, said she and her family were willing to withstand the heat to "remind people that for some, the place where they are standing is their only home." Margo Barron Sun City resident says Hands Across America is "really neat. Kid Continued from Al Many said they wanted to come to Tonopah because it was the end of the line in Arizona. Worried about heat and lack of medical facilities, event organizers said last week that the 94-mile stretch between Tonopah and Eh- renberg, on the California line, would be filled symbolically by two helicopters.

At noon, a helicopter bearing crooner Robert Goulet lifted off from a makeshift launch pad in Tonopah to rendezvous with another from Ehrenberg, also carrying event volunteers. The choppers met at Vicksburg, about halfway, where, Goulet and others buried a time capsule containing Hands Across America memorabilia. Saying fears about the heat were groundless, Carol Whitaker of Phoenix said organizers had assigned her to Flagstaff. "But I'm a desert rati" she said. "I camp in the desert.

Let the Tonopah. They wj re trying to be Hands in Arizona before California. I.