AUTHORS NOTE; Carl Adams

     The Apache Indians, like most, have a process for adopting and I was adopted by Chief Cochise when I was forty five years old. This may seem odd to White people, but Papa was one hundred and seven at the time so I was not much more than a child to him. This adoption allowed Papa to pass on to me by word of mouth a lot of Apache history which we don't tell non Apaches. I just wish I had been allowed to use a recorder or better yet a cam-corder.

     I wrote to an insurance  Co. When my wife and I were estranged, before getting a divorce. She had been trying, for six or seven months, to get a life insurance policy on me canceled and they had kept writing back to her with excuses and delaying sending her the money owed to her. She brought a letter to me and asked if there was anything I could do to get them to send her the money. I wrote this LETTER and within ten days she had a check.

    Indian History   By Carl Adams

Custer’s first defeat

The lost apaches

The way the west really is

Trail of tears

Stag vacation

Stress

Letter

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Read: One Man's Journey, to Find God!.  Gary O’Hair

  Carl Adams,   Nino Cochise,  Charles Jones


          My name is Jack Williams jdwjr67@begottenson.com , I was in my early 20's it was around 1973 or so when I met Carl Adams, he was a friend of  my cousin, Charles Jones. We lived in Garrison Texas at the time and Carl worked in doing many things. A couple of them was flying airplanes and working as an aircraft mechanic at the Nacogdoches airport. We became friends right away. When Carl would go to the airport to work on a plane I would go with him and help with the plane. He would allow me to remove the cowling from the plane and remove any part that was necessary. Then Carl would fix the part or replace it with a new one. I was not allowed to install any parts, but when Carl would finish I would return the cowling, Carl would double check my work. In return for my help he taught me to fly a single engine land plane.      I remember the first time off the ground in an airplane so small. It was a plane that we had repaired earlier. After repairing the plane, Carl would need to test fly it and sign off on it before the owner could use it. (The kind of fellow I was dealing with). We were doing what he called ground flight. He was rolling on the ground about 125 miles an hour up and down the runway. As we were running back and forth, Carl was telling me that the plane was a piece of  junk and that it should be grounded. All of a sudden he pulled back on the stick and up we went. What a thrill! Crazy Indian. Rite then I thought that he must be related.  Sugar, took Carl a few years back, but before he died Carl mailed me some stories and told me I could do anything with them that I wanted to do. I would like to share them.