A note from Bonnie Eggle:  Kris had become dear friends with many of the U.S. Customs Officers at the Port of Entry in Lukeville, AZ.  The Shadow Wolves are part of the Customs group, although their main task is tracking for drug/weapons smugglers.  This elite, all-Indian unit also has trained some of the National Park Service Law Enforcement Rangers in these methods as they also look for drugs, weapons, and criminals of many sorts. Bryan Nez and Kris became very bonded, and when Kris was murdered Bryan wrote a wonderful tribute poem and has continued to write many more. He has given me permission to share with your audience as well.

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Medicine Smoke

 
The distant purple mountains softly touch the evening sky.
The smell of sweet aroma from the greasewood fills the desert air,
Like the smell of cookies and the sound of laughter.
Memories of friends, gone from this world to the next.
 
As the wind blows, I can hear the echo of their voices.
Reaching across time, reminding us never to forget.
Telling us they are always near,
Just in case we need a helping hand.
 
I sit by the fire, chanting a prayer.
I watch the smoke from my medicine pipe rise and dance toward the heavens.
I say a prayer for the ones left behind.
The coming night reminds me that we will all meet again
When the sun rises in the next world.

Until then, Silent One Who Smiles A Lot, until then.......

 

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I am angry, for the loss of my brother
I have the heart of the wolf
and I seek revenge
 
But, right at that moment
when I have the opportunity
to strike
 
Kris comes to me, smiling
and says, "Lower your sword and show compassion"
I am ashamed for allowing hatred to enter my heart
 
Kris has set a path for me and I will follow
smiling even in time of revenge
and I will show mercy
for I wish to see my brother again one day
 
 

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Kris was an angel who took a vacation from Heaven to
be with us here on Earth and when God noticed an Angel
was missing, He called Kris back to Heaven.

Kris is of the soil, whether it be the region of
forests or the desert. He fits into the landscape, for
the hand that fashioned the continent also fashioned
Kris for his surroundings. He grew as naturally as
the wild sunflowers; he belongs just as the buffalo
belonged....

Out of his approach to life there came a great
freedom, an intense and absorbing respect for life,
enriching faith in a Supreme Power, and principles of
truth, honesty, generosity, equity, and brotherhood as
a guide for others to follow.

A true warrior like his father before him, part of the
wolf pack he left behind. An Angel with the sweet
smell of chocolate cookies and a cool breeze for a
smile.

Farewell, Silent One Who Smiles A lot. You are my
Hero.

By Bryan Nez, U.S. Customs Patrol Officer
 

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As I roamed out one evening fair
I set my back against an Ironwood tree
To view the sunset in the western sky
And listen to the distant cry
Of the mourning dove.

The sweetest hour that I have spent
The smell of greasewood in the air
And the thought of my brother so far away
In another dream and another time
With the fading light, so goes my smile.

Keep your heart open and sure
And let the spirit of brotherhood
That united our soul
Be a gentle dove and guide you forth.

For our lives have its courses
And you never can say
Who you'll meet along the path
Love the lands living heart
And breathe eternal time.

And I will meet you in that faraway place
Where our souls will know one another
For another dream, in another time
For another life, and another smile
To view the sunset in the western sky.

Maii Tsoh Hosteen Begay Nez