Remembering Keith Titus

Keith Titus, Re-Member’s founding director, has made his journey to the Spirit World after 83 years of Earthly life. With his passing, Keith rejoins his beloved “Ginny,” the late Virginia Titus.

Keith Titus, August 2004. Photo by Todd Pinter

His life ended where it began, in bucolic Alpena, Michigan, surrounded by loving family and friends.

In 1996 and again in 2022, Keith wrote a guest column for his local newspaper, The Alpena News. His July 23 column, titled “Hello to goodbye, following her again,” recounted Keith’s diagnosis with cancer that came shortly after the same diagnosis for Ginny. “I’ll just go when it’s time,” he wrote. “I now am again ready to say goodbye.”

“She showed me (and others) the way, fearlessly, even joyfully. Dancing into death,” he wrote.

Dance on, Keith and Ginny.

Keith’s first trip to the Pine Ridge Reservation was in 1998, joined by Ginny, and Re-Member’s founding board co-chair, Mike Alles of Grand Haven, Michigan. In Keith’s memoir, Re-Membering, (see an excerpt from the final chapter, below) he wrote of his first visit: “It was the beginning, for the three of us, of an exposure to a ‘new history,’ one far different than the history we had been exposed to in the past.”

“I’ve enjoyed this part of my life and this part of my ministry more than anything I’ve ever done,” he said. “And I’ve been blessed with a wonderful variety of “vocations” … the theatre (acting/ directing/ set design), singing (country to opera and everything in between) teaching, politics, preaching. But this beats it all hollow.”

Keith led Re-Member from 1998-2006.

Asked in October, 2020 if he wished to add an addendum to his memoir, Keith wrote:

It has been fascinating to watch Re-Member move in the direction it has over the past few years. In the early years we had made some overtures in the direction of food production, but had neither the expertise or the time to focus on it, since the primary tasks of producing beds, ramps, porches, outhouses and skirting took up most of our time.

My personal spiritual journey over the years since I left active participation with this organization has, more and more, centered around an understanding that food; the growth, production, preparation, consumption and sharing is central to our spiritual growth. The cycle of life; the birth, growth and death of seeds and animals and civilizations and stars and planets, is firmly planted in our consciousness, and is crucial to our understanding of what it means to be truly human.

I applaud this burgeoning effort at Feather II and will continue to support these efforts to “break bread” with our Lakota brothers and sisters. I urge all of you to do likewise and to spread the word. The story of Re-Member is contagious. Tell it at every opportunity.

RE-MEMBERING KEITH TITUS
Chapter 14: Some Learnings

I have several degrees from several institutions of “higher learning” and a heap of other understandings from that less formal institution: life. But there’s no question in my mind that the time I spent on the reservation was the most significant learning period of my life; intellectually and spiritually. I’ll try to capture just a few.

So… some of what have I learned: (not necessarily in order of importance)

First, in relationship to the mission of Re-Member: It is a peculiarly “western” idea that our primary job in relationship to other cultures (and indeed to other persons) is to rush in and fix what we perceive as problems. Over our history this has gotten us, as a nation, into a lot of trouble. I believe (and I’m not sure this is shared by all of our board members) that our primary role with the people of Pine Ridge is simply to stand with them… to “be there” rather than to “do there;” that we can’t fix things; the Lakota have to fix whatever it is that they think needs fixing. I believe that the primary role of Re-Member is to change the lives of the volunteers who come out to the Rez, by introducing them to a culture and spirituality from which we can learn much, and by allowing them to offer their presence to a people who have been marginalized and forgotten by our government and the general public. This is “reverse mission.” It is we, the people in the dominant culture, who benefit most from this relationship. Outside of this, we can simply hope and pray that our presence will be felt by the Lakota people, and our love and concern for them will enable the healing of our relationship.

I have learned the importance of listening. I wish I practiced it more. As I have moved back into the dominant culture, I, too often, find myself straining to get my words in edgewise in conversations. The Cherokee have a saying, “Listen! Or your tongue will make you deaf!” I know I’m better at that than I used to be, but old habits die hard. I forget how much I learned on the Rez by listening.

I learned more about some of my strengths and weaknesses. One of my strengths is to inspire, to begin rather risky ventures and convince others to pour out their energies into the venture. I’m less good at “management.” I’m a big picture kind of guy, so I often miss seeing the tree that needs tending ‘cause I’m looking at the forest. I’m pretty good at identifying the broken parts of organizations and communication networks, but I too often fall into the trap of trying to “fix them” myself rather than turning the fixing over to the folks involved.

I’ve learned what most people in the “helping” vocations have learned; that working with and beside people who are broken economically or educationally or spiritually or any-other-“ly”, can be an exhausting experience for oneself. I’ve seen so many individuals and organizations who have come out to the Rez, convicted and energized and committed, and within a period of time, they are broken; exhausted and suffering from what has become known as “compassion fatigue.”

Being around the Lakota has opened up my spirituality. I really think I have come to understand what Eli Tail said to me when I asked him about Lakota religion and spirituality. Eli just shook his head sadly at me and said, “We don’t have any word for religion or spirituality. It’s a way of life”. We in the western world work so hard at compartmentalizing things. The Lakota are holistic. Their life is their worship, their church. As I was driving back to the Rez from Rapid City one day the last year out there, I entered the section of road that runs through the southern part of the Bad Lands. And suddenly I became the road and the land and the sky, and a part of Wakantanka, the Lakota word for God, which means “the great mysterious.” It lasted for just a few moments, but long enough for me to understand at a superficial level the oneness of all of creation. That there was and is no separation between me and the buffalo and the trees and the earth and the sky. We are all one and we are all holy.

And finally I have learned, (or been taught) that there are no coincidences. I still don’t buy the sense of God somewhere outside, manipulating things, but I am very comfortable that there are patterns; patterns that, most of the time, we cannot, in our finiteness, discern. But patterns, nevertheless. And that is a comforting thought in a world that so often seems aimless and arbitrary. I know there are many other “learnings,” but many are things I cannot yet put to words, and many are yet to be discovered. And there needs to be, at some point, a time to say,

the end