Two Truths and a Lie - Phyllis Johnson

Rules: I will post the two truths and one lie that each of you submit to me. You will need to post in the comments section which one you think is a lie. If you know for certain, please don't say anything that will give it away for everyone else. I will be tracking the points and giving awards at the first annual Thompson Thanksgiving Award Night.

I will post the answer after a few days to give everyone time to vote.

Before I post my mom's entry, I have to tell you the funny story about this. My mom sent me an email with the subject title "Two Truths." In the email she doesn't give any background, she just has the below entry. I never made the connection that she was submitting her entry for the game. So I just read the email like my mom wanted me to know some things about her life when she was younger.

That night, I got home and said to Mary, "My mom sent me the most random email today. It was crazy. I don't even know how to respond." I read it to Mary who then realized what it was for. We laughed pretty hard.

When you are reading it, try to picture me reading it not knowing what it was about. I really thought my mom had lost it...

PHYLLIS JOHNSON

1- In a chance meeting, I confronted Chief Peter MacDonald of the Navajo Nation, about the practice of giving the Navajo people their annual allotment of money from the Bureau of Indian Affairs, in one lump sum every January.
I felt it contributed to the abundance of alcoholism and subsequent neglect of children on the reservation. The encounter made the front page of the Window Rock newspaper and I still have the clipping.

2 - I drove a mentally ill Native American woman from Window Rock, Arizona to her family in El Paso, Texas. Another 16 year old girl accompanied me on the trip. While in El Paso, we decided to cross the border into Juarez, Mexico where I purchased a lovely velvet painting of Jesus praying in the Garden. We spoke no Spanish, could read no road signs, only had American money, but had a ball.

3 - I heard that the father of the children who lived across from us had fallen off the wagon after a year of sobriety. I found out what bar he was at, got in the compound's van and drove to the bar. I walked in and ordered him to get in the van, where he laid on the back seat drunk. I drove him straight to the church which was having a service. I ordered him to go sit on the front row___and he wobbled down. That was his last jump off the wagon. He went on to become a nationally recognized creator and designer of Navajo jewelry.