Photos by
Shane McMillan
Information
Name: Crow
Tribe: Crow
Population: 6,900
Native: 75%
Counties: Big Horn,
Yellowstone
Taking Their Own Path
Angered by what they insist was an insubstantial investigation of their son's death, a Crow family diligently pursues a suit against the FBI
Written by Charles Pulliam
Small homes interrupt the matte brown horizon at the northwest edge of the Crow Reservation, speckled dots and dashes amid the crisp spring snow. The vast expanse of rolling hills defines this raw, wide open country, where family becomes more than just blood relations; they're best friends, confidants, people you can count on.
A Crow family whose home is nestled in those hills was ripped apart on Feb. 2, 2005, when Steven Bearcrane-Cole was shot and killed by a co-worker. As Earline and Cletus Cole tried to cope with the shock and grief of their son's death, they assured their four remaining children that the law would find justice for Steven. But in the four years since 23-year-old Bearcrane-Cole died, the Coles say they've learned that they couldn't count on the FBI or federal attorneys. Instead, they are pursuing the justice they insist was denied their son.
Recently the Coles and another Crow Indian family filed a lawsuit in federal district court in Billings, claiming that the FBI has a pattern of failing to adequately investigate crimes against Indians.
To fund the fight, the Coles and their extended family have been selling off their cattle, one head at a time. "We'd sell a cow here, one there," Earline Cole says. She says the family sells a heifer each time a bill comes from their Denver-based attorneys or each time their legal team needs to fly to Billings for hearings.
"We're wealthy in a sense of family," explains her husband, Cletus Cole. "Grandpa's herd is down from selling though," he adds, referring to his father-in-law, Earl Bearcrane.
Earline spends most of her days and restless nights doing legwork for the case to help minimize legal fees. She receives packets of information needed for the case and, once she gathers it, reports back her findings. She has become fluent in legal terms and knows every detail of her son's case.
Earline and Cletus Cole still suffer daily from their loss. Their voices occasionally quiver when they speak of their son and they struggle to hold back tears.
Earline has high cheekbones, long dark hair and brown eyes that soften and sharpen as she talks about her second-oldest son. In fitted jeans, a pink top with floral embroidery and a green fleece vest she fits comfortably in both the sweeping landscape of their valley and the angular streets of Billings, some 20 miles west. Cletus is the quintessential Indian cowboy. A belt with a beaded buckle secures dark denim jeans around his thin waist. Tucked into his jeans is plaid shirt with pearl buttons that snap shut. A black cowboy hat shades his eyes, which often look tired.
Sitting around the big table in the dining room at her parents' house, Earline looks toward her husband from behind a stack of legal documents.
"We aren't the kind of people to talk bad about others," she says, "but we just want justice for Steven."
Steven Bearcrane–Cole was shot by Bobby Gene Holcomb at the Leachman Cattle Co. ranch, where both men worked as ranch hands.
The shooting happened on one of Bearcrane-Cole's days off. His girlfriend, Melissa Costas, had dropped him off at the ranch after Holcomb called to ask him to help out for a few hours. After working in a field several miles from the barn and stock pens, the two men, who had been drinking, reportedly got into a dispute over a horse. Holcomb drove back to the barn in a truck pulling a horse trailer, leaving Bearcrane-Cole in the field. Ranch foreman Roger Reitman reported that Bearcrane-Cole rode up bareback on a horse about a half-hour later and headed for the dingy white and yellow trailer that served as a bunkhouse. Holcomb later told authorities that Bearcrane-Cole kicked in the door to the trailer and attacked him with a knife. Holcomb said he grabbed his .22 caliber pistol and, fearing for his life, shot Bearcrane-Cole between the eyes.
But Patricia Bangert, an attorney for the Coles, says evidence contradicts Holcomb's claim. Crime scene photos show Bearcrane- Cole lying on his back, she says, and the knife Holcomb claims Bearcrane-Cole attacked him with was not only sheathed, but beneath his body and under an electrical cord lying on the floor.
"That's the magic knife that went from Steven's hands, into a sheath, underneath a cord and underneath his body," Bangert says. "It doesn't make sense."
A civil rights attorney, Bangert has taught as a visiting professor at several Colorado law schools and was director of legal policy for the Colorado attorney general. She says she took on the case, despite the fact she knew it would be controversial because it names several FBI agents and U.S. attorneys as defendants.