"Dorothy Yahtin spotted the glow of the Simnasho Longhouse, cars still in the parking lot, and limped toward the light. The rugged hills of the Warm Springs Reservation, flecked with sage, stretched toward the dark horizon.

Her hands were freezing in the late November chill. She remembers numbly opening the door and stumbling in.

The tribal chairman and his family, gathered for dinner on the 2002 Thanksgiving weekend, looked up.

Dorothy's long black hair hung around her battered face. A purple bruise, vivid in emergency-room photos taken later, circled her swollen left eye. Her upper lip split over her sheepish smile. She smelled like warm beer."

Get the Story:
The broken chain (The Oregonian 1/7)
History leaves tribes in transition (The Oregonian 1/7)

Oregonian Special Series:
Warm Springs - A Place Where Children Die

Relevant Links:
Warm Springs Tribes - http://www.warmsprings.com