On Saturdays and Sundays in the summer, as many as 150 people a day visit the farm. Some days there may be only one or two Native Americans; other days there may be as many as forty. Indians and non-Indians alike continue to come to the Heiders' farm. Parents bring their children and make a day of it, though the youngsters are often more interested in chasing the clucks and geese than they are in seeing a sacred buffalo. All manner and all ages of people still come, from sightseers to psychics, medicine men to Methodist ministers, New Agers to old-timers. The Heiders accept everyone. Witches and channelers have signed the guest book, and even a man claiming to be Jesus Christ. Dave says Jesus drives a nice Cadillac.
Dave estimated that over the past two years, some seventy-five thousand people had visited the farm, coming from as far away as Russia, Australia, Japan, South Africa, and the Middle East. For those who cannot travel to Wisconsin, there are three Web sitesWhite Buffalo, Miracle, and Beloit Daily Newswhere anyone with access to the Internet can learn the most recent news about Miracle.
The story continues to receive international coverage in the print and broadcast media. It seems to appear in waves, Dave told me. First, a new article will be published in an American paper, which is picked up by one of the news services and flashed around the world. Then a reporter from another country calls, does an interview, and so it goes. Whether international publicity leads to spiritual superstardom is debatable, but Miracle's name has been mentioned at major ecumenical events, such as the interdenominational World Day, which was held in Jerusalem in June 1996. Dave and Val do not promote Miracle for such events; her fame seems to be self-generating.
One of the most unexpected aspects of this whole adventure, according to Val, is the fame that she and Dave have achieved. People recognize them even when they are away from the farm or outside of Janesville. They find it embarrassing and somewhat humorous when people tell them how famous they are. Some people even ask for autographs.
Fame notwithstanding, Dave and Val have managed to adjust to their new situation. Not given to hyperbole, Dave claims that there have been some inconveniences, but no big problems really. They are used to the crowds now. The only anger I have heard in his voice was when he spoke of people who don't seem to be able to read signs or tell time. Although the days and times for visitation are clearly posted, there are people who nevertheless feel free to walk into the yard at all hours, even at night. It's hard to live a normal family life and also take care of the farm and the animals when people come traipsing through anytime they want. It's not much fun for the Heiders to turn people away, and it's not much fun for the visitors who are asked to leave.
Dave said he is better at controlling his temper and has learned to read people better. "You can tell pretty quickly if the person is a true believer or just blowing smoke," he told me. "In either case, you have to take them at face value."
From the details of their daily routine to how they see the world, the Heiders' lives have changed in dramatic ways. There are the practical matters of crowds, security, and increased workload, for instance. Their neighbors still help out when needed, a show of community support that has not changed over the past two years. Friends and family have become accustomed to the crowds and the interruptions, but they also take pride in seeing Janesville in the news and on the map. It's the kind of community spirit that is highly valued in the Midwest, the salt-of-the-earth attitude that city dwellers lament as missing from urban life. A sense of community is strong here.
The Heiders have never exploited the calf for financial gain, and they don't intend to. They don't charge a fee for seeing Miracle. But the reality of the situation is that they have more expenses now than before the calf was born. The revenue generated by the gift shop helps offset the added expenses. Dave and Val are practical people, and they know that tourists will be tourists. People want to buy a souvenir to take home whether they're visiting Mount Rushmore or the shrine at the Lourdes grotto.
People often make voluntary donations, sometimes substantial ones, but the large sums of money have not come rolling in as some had predicted early on, and Dave and Val do not solicit funds. They are considering other ways to make money to cover expenses, and their plans include increasing the size of the herd and maybe even selling bison meat.
Miracle certainly offers the potential of great wealth. The Heiders are still approached by people and groups who want to buy Miracle. One Indian tribe Dave won't reveal which one offered a trade of 750 head of buffalo, valued at more than $2.5 million. Dave and Val received an even larger offer from one of the country's major bison-ranching outfits. Book and movie deals have been broached as well. If they wanted to, Dave and Val could easily take the money and just walk away from all the hoopla surrounding the white buffalo. Instead they politely decline the offers. It isn't that they wouldn't like to be rich, but they know they have a responsibility, and they believe that what they are doing is a service to humanity. The Heiders see Miracle as a spiritual gift to the world and feel a personal obligation to protect and care for her, as well as to share this gift with others.
A few months before my visit, Floyd Hand, the Lakota elder who prophesied both the birth of Miracle and the death of Marvin, had come to the farm to pay homage to Miracle on her second birthday. Before his trip, I spoke to Floyd by phone and there was excitement in his voice, the excitement of a pilgrim readying himself for an important journey. I asked him if there was even more to his prophecy about Miracle. Although he would not elaborate, he said that the prophecy would continue to unfold, that there would be still more changes in Miracle, and that her importance would continue to grow. And, I remembered, there is still his prediction about the twenty-first day of the twenty-first year of the twenty-first century when the world will live in harmony.
I asked Floyd how well he thought Dave and Val had coped with the many changes they have had to face, with having their lives turned upside down. He quickly corrected me. "Their lives were not turned upside down," he said. "They were chosen." His meaning was clear. From his perspective, the birth of Miracle was not a trial to endure; instead, it was an honor bestowed.
Dave has spoken with the elders of various tribes who revere the white buffalo. I asked him if there have been other predictions regarding Miracle. He said yes, but he prefers not to discuss them. Just as Dave and Val have decided not to ask about or judge the motivations of the many people who have come to see Miracle, they do not discuss the sacred knowledge given them in confidence by tribal elders. Perhaps because of their discretion as well as their custodianship of Miracle, they have been honored by being inducted into the Lakota tribe at Pine Ridge.
Native American spirituality reflects an evolving, highly adaptive perspective on the world. Even within the two years since Miracle was born, there had been a change in outlook. Traditionally, a white buffalo would have been sacrificed, its hide and horns and skull used for ceremonial purposes. In fact, members of the White Buffalo Society did approach the Heiders about sacrificing the calf. But tribal elders, as well as Dave and Val, were against it. Is this simply a reflection of the politically correct nineties? Or is it another example of the continuing evolution of Native American thought? These are interesting questions to ponder. Even the elders, medicine men and women, and tribal leaders are waiting to see how the story of Miracle will unfold.
And where does Miracle fit into the larger scope of human spirituality? What does she represent to the thousands of non-Indians who have made a pilgrimage to Janesville, Wisconsin? They have stood at the fence to gaze at the white buffalo. What exactly they are looking for only they know, but indeed, everybody seems to be looking for some thing perhaps a sign, an epiphany, or a deeper understanding of the sacredness of the white buffalo; perhaps a deeper understanding of their own spirituality.