TRUMBULL, Conn. – More than 200 people attended a traditional mourning walk Aug. 7 for Chief Big Eagle, the hereditary chief of the Golden Hill Paugussett Tribe.

Big Eagle, known also as Aurelius Piper Sr., died Aug. 3 at one of the tribe’s two reservations – the tiny one-quarter-acre reservation in Trumbull. He was 92.

The mourning walk was led by a drum on the back of a black pickup truck. Big Eagle’s cremated remains were carried in a pouch by his son, Little Eagle, from the reservation to the Nichols Farms Cemetery a little less than a mile away. The remains were escorted by a group of young men wearing red bandanas and carrying a blessing ceremonial blanket. Family members and close friends accompanied the procession to the cemetery, where they were met by the crowd that had gathered for the event.

A ceremony took place in the cemetery that included smudging, the recitation of the Christian Lord’s Prayer and the singing of “Amazing Grace,” a bugler playing taps, and a nine-gun military salute to honor Big Eagle’s participation in World War II in North Africa.

After the ceremony, the drum led the procession back to the reservation. Local police blocked off the road to accommodate the mourning walk.

Big Eagle was a giant among the state’s Indian activists in the 20th century. He dedicated his life to keeping the name of the Golden Hill Paugussetts alive and to preserving and promoting Indian culture worldwide. Those who came to honor Big Eagle described him as a fearless, generous spirit who was both gruff and gentle, and given to random acts of kindness.

Linda Gray, Schaghticoke, recalled such an act in the 1970s after her divorce.

“Two years after my son was born, I was having a rough time being on my own. I went to numerous Native people to ask for help with heating,” she said. “No one could help, but Aurelius heard about it and he contacted me. We went to the Connecticut gas company and other places, and he somehow got the money to help me through the winter with heat for myself and my son. He didn’t have to do that, and that’s my good memory of him.

“He knew my sister, tribal historian [the late] Pauline Crone Morange. They were good friends and that’s why I know when he passed Pauline was up there at the gate waiting for him with a smile.”

Amy Den Ouden, professor of anthropology at the University of Massachusetts – Boston and author of “Beyond Conquest: Native Peoples and the Struggle for History in New England,” worked on the tribe’s federal recognition petition and testified in court on the tribe’s land claims in the early 1990s.

“When my son, Liam, was born, Chief Big Eagle sent a beautiful necklace he had made for him along with a gracious note to Liam. He was a truly good-hearted man in every way,” Den Ouden said.

Mohegan tribal historian and medicine woman Melissa Zobel recalled Big Eagle as “a leading figure in Connecticut Indian affairs” when she was a girl.

“One of my fondest memories of him was at the opening of the Mashantucket casino in 1992. He was a very traditional man and I was wearing my regalia, and I remember him saying to me, ‘It’s nice to see an Indian woman properly dressed. I’m going to stay with you today because I don’t want to be around any Indian women dressed in European clothes, so you stick right with me.’ I was very honored.”

The Golden Hill Paugussett Tribe has been recognized by the state for more than 300 years, but its petition for federal recognition was vigorously opposed and defeated by state officials and local towns, including Trumbull.

Trudi Lamb Richmond, a Schaghticoke elder and director of public programs at the Mashantucket Pequot Museum & Research Center, remembered how Big Eagle worried about providing a land base, other than the one-quarter ace, for tribal members.

“I think he found out he could get land through HUD [the federal Housing and Urban Development] and put it into trust. Everyone in Trumbull was all excited about it. They thought, ‘Let’s help him get another reservation and get him the hell out of Trumbull.’ They could hardly wait. So finally, the Colchester property was agreed upon – the 118 – 120 acres. And when it was signed, sealed and delivered, the Trumbull people said, “OK, Piper, when are you leaving?’ He told them, ‘I never said I was leaving here. This is where I belong and I’m not moving,’” she said.

Big Eagle co-authored “Quarter Acre of Heartache,” the story of his legal struggle to save a tiny remnant of land from the original reserve established for the tribe in 1658 on Golden Hill, which is now part of Bridgeport.

He was named “Chief of the Century” by the Florida chapter of the White Buffalo Society “for his work in furthering Native American causes in Connecticut, across the country and abroad.”

He also served on many boards and commissions in the state and as a spiritual liaison to Indians in prison. He was also the owner-operator of a long distance trucking business for 40 years.

He is survived by his wife, Marsha Conte Piper, and their children, Sharon and Little Eagle Piper. He also leaves his children, Aurelius H. Piper Jr. (Chief Quiet Hawk), Julia Piper and Aurelius Piper; two adopted daughters, Irina Piper and Sue Baldwin; several stepchildren, grandchildren and great-grandchildren; and an extensive web of in-laws, cousins, nieces, nephews and friends worldwide.