Felix Clary
ICT + Tulsa World
TULSA, Okla. – Bill Kennedye, an artist of Kiowa heritage, hadn’t painted in months when he tore up several of his own paintings worth thousands of dollars in anger that was enhanced by drugs and alcohol.
He had just spent a few weeks in jail in Norman, and his brother Boots picked him up and dropped him off at his apartment. Boots made sure to stay in contact with him, but after a few days, Bill stopped texting him back. Boots went to bang on his door — no answer.
Later, the police wouldn’t let Boots into the apartment, telling him the scene was too gruesome. Bill Kennedye, who painted under the name Dan Deer, was 49 when he hung himself in the closet with speaker wires.
The story is one example of the many health problems disproportionately facing Oklahoma’s Native population, which suffers from a life expectancy rate 17 years lower than the state’s non-Native population.
The average non-Native Oklahoman dies at 72, which is already four years younger than the national average, but their Native neighbors are dying at 55 on average, according to Oklahoma State Department of Health data.
Suicide, genetic diseases, and accidental injury, such as drug overdose or DUI incidents, are among the top causes of death for Native people in Oklahoma.
William “Bill” Kennedye, of Oklahoma City, was described by his brother as “real smart, real funny, and real handsome.” Charles “Boots” Kennedye is Bill’s younger brother, who went to college before Bill did. The oldest brother, Jim Kennedye, is a successful emergency room doctor.
“My brother Bill was always the typical middle child, never feeling his place in the world,” Boots said. “When he was 18, he didn’t smoke cigarettes, but he drank quite a bit.”
In his early 20s, Bill started mixing his drinking with methamphetamine after meeting a woman in Texas. After having a son together, Bill and his wife split up.

He was a well-known Indigenous artist under the name of Dan Deer. Boots said his paintings were phenomenal and quite popular in the Native community.
But after decades of drug and alcohol abuse, he experienced explosive anger. It caused him to tear up even his largest, most expensive paintings. He also developed drug-induced schizophrenia.
“He would hear things and see things. He would get in his car and drive until he ran out of gas sometimes. One time he ended up in Kansas, in the middle of nowhere. He walked to a farmer’s house. No one was home. So he lay behind his car for hours in the freezing cold until the cops picked him up,” Boots recounted.
Generational and historical trauma causes various mental health struggles in Native communities and can lead to substance addictions.
According to the Oklahoma State Department of Health, Native people in Oklahoma are at the highest risk of chronic alcoholism, 7.7 percent, with all other racial categories below 5 percent. Oklahoma in general ranks seventh in the nation for binge drinking risks.
Natives also have the highest rate of poor mental health, with 23.5 percent struggling with mental illness, while all other racial categories are under 18 percent. Natives are also the most likely to commit suicide or self-harm, at 30.6 percent, with white and Black racial categories below 22 percent.
Chronic liver disease, heart disease, obesity and diabetes are also in the top categories of causes of death common among Native populations.
Many of these diseases are comorbid with alcohol and drug use. Boots said Bill developed some major heart issues after years of using methamphetamine and alcohol.

Behavioral health treatment
In response to these statistics, at least six of the 39 tribes in Oklahoma — the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes, the Choctaw Nation, the Comanche Nation, the Muscogee Nation, the Iowa Tribe of Oklahoma and the Osage Nation — have partnered with the 988 mental health lifeline.
When callers dial 988, they are answered by suicide prevention specialists at Solari Mental And Behavioral Health Services. The tribes and Solari are in communication with each other so that the specialists are trained on how to help Native callers by directing them to their own tribes’ resources.
“Substance use disorders are often an attempt at treating anxiety, depression and life stressors, which could be a result of socioeconomic issues, discrimination, generational trauma and the scarce access to treatment in this state,” said Tyler Stone, director of the substance abuse and suicide prevention grant program at the Muscogee Nation.
There are about 200 hospitals in Oklahoma, and 18 medical facilities provide free healthcare for Native patients. According to Stone, only a handful of them offer behavioral health services, and most do not offer in-patient care for at-risk patients.
Boots said Bill was admitted to a Chickasaw Nation in-patient facility in Ada at one point. It was over an hour from his home, but it was the closest option at the time.
“He stayed there for about two days, but they aren’t the kind of facility that can lock you in there,” said Boots.
After two days, Bill left and walked home, all the way from Ada to Oklahoma City, a 30-hour walk.
Stone said there is some correlation between rural states and life-expectancy.
“You see more mental health issues, substance abuse and suicide as a result of scarce health care,” he said. “We’re also dealing with a bigger issue, which is stigma. That kind of ties into upbringing, cultural norms, feeling like it’s not OK to reach out for help or talk about our problems.”
On a reservation or in a small Oklahoma town, Stone said, everyone usually knows one another. Many tribes also operate their own businesses, meaning tribal citizens are often tribal employees.
He said they might be afraid to go into a waiting room and run into someone they know.
“Maybe they’re very well-known for their job, too — maybe a lawyer or police officer, a councilman or even a chief. They might think, ‘How would that look if I’m sitting in a therapy room or seeking help for substance abuse?’”
Generational cycles
Even though seeking help for drug and alcohol abuse is not well-normalized in Native communities, the abuse itself is.
“Bill’s son at the time he died was 22 or 23,” said Boots. “He didn’t really teach his son really good life skills. He did drugs in front of him and normalized it for him.”
Bill had left his ex-wife in Texas and moved back to Oklahoma City during his early 30s. He and his son lived in a tiny apartment.
“He went to a rehab center for a couple of months and got clean for a while,” Boots said. “He went to school for nursing for two years, and he was clean and sober. But then he started hanging around younger girls, and they got him to drink one night for one girl’s birthday.”
Boots said Bill drank the next week, then the next week, then started mixing the drinking with methamphetamine again.
“He was flying through school before the drugs. But he spiraled out of control, and he exploded on one of the teachers, because meth makes you an explosive person. He got kicked out,” said Boots.
Bill applied again the next year but was kicked out after another couple of months.
He was devastated, with his mental health declining and his schizophrenia flaring worse than ever, so he sent his son to live with the boy’s mom in Texas. Bill was alone, and eventually, DUIs caught up to him, so he lost his car and ended up in jail, where Boots picked him up just days before his death.
According to an Informa Healthcare study, alcohol abuse is linked to genetic predisposition, but societal context often triggers the abuse. Family influence and peer pressure are higher for Natives than for non-Natives in Oklahoma, and the age at which Native youths first try drugs or alcohol is younger than non-Natives.
The story of the Kennedye boys isn’t over.
“The idea of our ancestors experiencing trauma and that being passed down through our genes is very real. If I grew up in a home where my father or mother had substance abuse issues, it doesn’t mean I’m necessarily going to have them, too, but the chances are higher,” Stone said.
“But nature and nurture both play a part. Two children can have the gene, but due to the environmental differences, one child might grow up to abuse drugs and the other might not. The other might break the cycle.”

This story is co-published by the Tulsa World and ICT, a news partnership that covers Indigenous communities in the Oklahoma area.
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