I met a strange man under strange circumstances. 
I spent a fortuitous weekend with a small cult in Henderson, Nevada whose members ingest a sacrament that produces aural hallucinations - a chemical compound called DIPT. This story is documented elsewhere. I met there an august Akimel O'odham man named Buddy Hayes. He happened to be the grand-nephew of the infamous Ira Hayes

Buddy grew up and lives in a tiny community near Snaketown (on the rez, south of Phoenix and west of Santan). He leads spiritual ceremonies in his home, a unique and sometimes frightening invocation of visions. It is a singular, transcendental religion whose only member is its prophet. 

Years ago, Buddy ran for lieutenant governor as a write-in candidate on the Gila River Indian tribal council. He ended up losing to his competitors. Upset by his defeat, he got drunk and drove his truck aimlessly around the outskirts of Sacaton. It was a stormy monsoon night. When his truck died he wandered into a windy alfalfa field and blacked out. Next thing he knew, a great horned owl was sitting on top of his chest. It was looking directly into his eyes, and Buddy lay paralyzed with fear. The owl puffed up and ruffled its feathers. As it raised its outstretched wings lightning struck them both. The owl was probably killed instantly, but Buddy blacked out again. A powerful vision of an immeasurably large owl god grew before him, its rainbow-colored feathers made of flint knives. The feathers gave birth to universes, mirages, and rainbows. The owl was the personification of death and universal knowledge, and its tongue shot lightning bolts. In the depths of this vision Buddy learned the name of the enigmatic owl deity. He was reborn.