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Olympic champion, Native American Billy Mills continues to fight for the dreams of a nation

Jan. 26—MITCHELL — Fifty-nine years after his running triumphs helped heal his "broken soul," Billy Mills dreams of mending the soul of a broken nation.

During the 1964 Olympics in Tokyo, the 85-year-old Pine Ridge, South Dakota, native and member of the Oglala Sioux tribe became the only American to ever win a gold medal in the 10,000-meter run. Now, the U.S. Marine veteran travels around the country and world, alongside his wife, Pat, speaking on the social injustices he believes inhibit the nation from reaching its full potential.

Mills' journey leads him to Mitchell, where he takes in a 40-foot by 60-foot mural plastered to the Corn Palace's exterior wall that commemorates his crowning athletic achievement. The experience takes him back.

"I never thought it was inside of me," Mills said of winning the gold medal. "I look back and I'm almost in shock that I could focus so powerfully for one moment in time. And then from that one moment in time, it's given me multitudes of opportunities to give back."

The Mitchell Republic was invited to join Mills for an interview on Wednesday, Jan. 24 during his car ride from the Corn Palace to the University of South Dakota, where he was slated to participate in the campus' third-annual Native American Heritage Day.

Mills' provisions for a two-hour trip from Mitchell to Vermillion are a half-eaten hamburger and an unopened Coca-Cola purchased at the Corn Palace gift shop. As a hypoglycemic, the Sacramento, California resident needs to eat every few hours to keep his blood sugar up, and these items won't just do the job, but provide peace of mind as the Jeep Cherokee traverses through southeastern South Dakota.

As expected from a former world-class athlete, the 85-year-old is well-tuned to his body, and knows how to effectively take care of himself.

Aside from his hypoglycemia, which he's had since his running days, Mills has a few physical ailments, which are an indication of his age. He recently injured his right knee, and is working to get his balance back. He feels stiffness in his hip when he stands up, and is deaf in his left ear. But none of that has stopped him from traveling. Nor has it seemed to age his physical appearance.

And his memory is robust.

Mills recounts in detail a reunion with an old friend, Mohamed Gammoudi of Tunisia, a four-time Olympic medalist and the runner-up in the 1964 race Mills won.

"'I was so happy when you won,"'Gammoudi told him in London during the 2012 Olympic games.

"I said, 'What do you mean?'"

"'That was a gift,'" Gammoudi responded.

"'You knew that was a gift?'"

"'Yes.'"

"'Gammoudi, that was a gift to me from Allah,'" Mills told his Muslim friend.

"'Yes! Or in your world, from Jesus, or your Native American virtues and values,'" Gammoudi responded.

The exchange encapsulates how Mills thinks people should treat one another.

"We find common ground," he said. "We don't fight. And very few, if any, of my other Olympic colleagues would have done it that way."

Mills' distinguishing memories, in fact, seem to be his interactions with other people. For better or worse.

He's endured the cruelness of racism throughout his life, being called slurs and receiving death threats.

In college, he was asked to step out of a photo of All-American runners following a race due to the color of his skin. More recently, he was at a restaurant in Custer, South Dakota with his family, and asked a worker where the bathroom was. A man who had just paid his check interrupted, and combatively said, "Go across the street."

He's felt the heartache of seeing his descendants treated in similar fashion — a grandchild asked to leave public places for no particular reason, or being followed suspiciously by storekeepers.

But the good experiences also seem powerful. He recalls the kindness of Dick Fosbury — inventor of the Fosbury flop in the high jump — and how he was always able to connect with him despite cultural differences.

Part of Mills' healing as a young man came from mending a chasm with his coach at Kansas, Bill Easton, with whom he had a tumultuous relationship.

As an undergrad, when Mills expressed to Easton his Olympic ambitions, he was told, "Don't dream too big. Those are dreams for Wes" — referring to Kansas All-American Wes Santee, who was less than a second from becoming the first man to break the four-minute mile.

Easton never complimented Mills, and, in fact, his words had a negative power over him, to the point in which hearing Easton's voice during his race would disrupt Mills' confidence. It reached a breaking point during the national championships Mills' senior year. Easton kept shouting "get up in front or get off the track," and Mills, after hearing the same thing for 21 laps, had enough, and stepped off the track with four laps to go, a decision he regrets.

But ultimately, kindness prevailed.

Moments after winning the gold medal, Mills received a telegram from Easton saying, "Congratulations, son. I just saw the race of my life. You are the greatest Jayhawk of all." He looked up, and there was Easton in person to greet him. The two embraced, as Mills fought to hold back the tears.

"I matured, and he mellowed," Mills recalled. "And then later on I'd be with him, and he was definitely a different man. And I would think, boy, if he coached me now, I could have done great things at Kansas."

Mills has two lines of heritage. He points to his Lakota blood, which he says comes from his great-grandmother, and English blood, from his paternal great grandfather, from whom he carries his surname.

The way Mills sees it, there are two pairs of footprints of America, representing both sides of his lineage, that juxtapose each other throughout history. On one end, there are the footprints of "privilege," where people have had access to the American dream. On the other, there's what Mills calls "generational trauma," stemming from the nation's troublesome history.

He references the Doctrine of Discovery, in which European settlers believed it was morally justified to "discover" land that was yet to be inhabited by Christians. Other injustices followed, such as the 1823 Johnson v. McIntosh Supreme Court case, which ruled American Indians were barred from owning land. Then, the "trail of tears" followed, where Indigenous people were forced from their homes. Mills continues from there, referencing slavery, Jim Crow laws and more contemporary plights such as the drug epidemic.

"Those footprints are in every fiber of our social way of life," Mills said. "Our education systems, our political systems, our entrepreneurial systems, influencing or dictating the rule of law."

Mills wants change, and is doing his part. His running successes afforded him fame, and opportunity to build his own wealth. In turn, he created a charity,

Running Strong for American Indian Youth

. The charity raises over $3 million annually, money which goes to infrastructure projects on reservations and grants for "young indigenous leaders."

Elsewhere, Mills speaks to groups about his views of the nation. Billy Mills Middle School in Lawrence, Kansas, utilizes a curriculum which Mills helped create.

Full change, Mills believes, comes from teaching the youth about the nation's past, and having open discourse about it.

"We've become a great country. But if we're going to have reconsolidation, if we're going to have diversity, we need to have an understanding of those footprints," Mills said. " ... Humility, compassion, respect, truth, honesty. Those are values that almost every society throughout the world has."

And as Mills meanders the plains of South Dakota, the land of his childhood, where he experienced the loss of both parents, and felt the sting of "economic poverty" and the "poverty of dreams," he sees this as the place where true change can come.

"Mitchell, the state of South Dakota, the tribes are so ready to truly pursue diversity and fulfill this American dream. But it will not happen as long as we try to wash those footprints away by the passage of time, the winds of change. And as long as you have a fear of truth, it won't happen."