Korczak Ziolkowski

Korczak Ziolkowski's Dedication to "American Heritage"
A Man And His Mountain
By Gordon Hanson
Custer, S.D.
For 16 years, Korczak Ziolkowski has been working, almost alone, on Thunderhead Mountain.
Ahead of him, the years of work stretch nearly out of sight. When they are over, Ziolkowski hopes, he will have transformed the 600-foot mountain in the southern Black Hills into the world's largest monument -- a titanic carving of the great Sioux Indian leader, Crazy Horse.
The monument will show the Indian warrior mounted on a horse, and will rise 563 feet above the surrounding pine-clad valleys. It will be taller than the Washington Monument or the Pyramid of Gizeh. A 10-story building would fit in the opening between the rider's extended arm and the horse's withers. Its length will be 641 feet and, says Ziolkowski (pronounced Jewel-cuff'-ski), "4,000 men will be able to stand on the outstretched arm"--an arm that will extend 263 feet. The carving will be in the round, rather than in relief, like nearby Mount Rushmore, which will also be dwarfed by Ziolkowski's work.
Korczak Ziolkowski is a brawny man with craggy features framed by a full beard, and with a will that is almost as granitic as the mountain itself. He has dedicated his life to carving the figure of the Sioux leader, a warrior martyred for his devotion to his people and his land.
"I knew what it was to be pushed around," Ziolkowski explained, "and I wanted to do something for the Indians, who have certainly been pushed around." The Boston-born sculptor's feelings are rooted in his past; he was an orphan who ran away from a foster home at 16.
The man and his mission were brought together in 1939, when Ziolkowski received a letter from Oglala Sioux Chieftan Henry Standing Bear asking him to carve a mountain memorial "so that the White Men will know that the Red Man had great heroes too." Ziolkowski had achieved a measure of fame that year; his bust of the Polish pianist-patriot, Ignace Jan Paderewski, completed in six feverish days in 1933, won the first award at the 1939 New York World's Fair by a popular vote of more than 60,000 persons.
It wasn't until eight years after that Ziolkowski sold his Connecticut home and bought his South Dakota ranch, which had within its boundaries Thunder-head Mountain. On June 3, 1948, the handle was plunged to set off the first dynamite blast at the mountain.
When he started work, the sculptor had $174 in his pocket and a tent to live in. He also had his great dream to sustain him, and a completion date -- 1978. By himself he felled trees and made a studio home at the foot of the mountain. And in the winter of 1948-49 he carried 29 tons of hand hewn lumber up Thunderhead Mountain to build a 700-foot stairway.
The Long Climb Up
Several times a day. over the years, he strapped dynamite or equipment to his back and laboriously climbed the stairs. Today he has niched a rough road on the back of the mountain and, with heavy equipment at the top, he has been able to shape the mountain at a faster clip. With the occasional help of another man or two -- depending on funds -- he has blasted 1,56O,000 tons of rock off the mountain and has an estimated 4,400,000 tons to go. The work is being done in two phases: blasting, to give the monument its rough dimensions, and polishing, still to come, for the final shape.
The years of labor have not left Ziolkowski devoid of the patience it takes to work on a delicate marble bust or wood carving under the gaze of the hundreds of tourists who visit his studio every day. But he is a blunt man and he is tolerant of those who fail to generate enthusiasm matching his own for the Thunderhead Mountain project.
There were many area residents who lacked enthusiasm. At first they felt Ziolkowski was working on the mountain -- and seeking financial help -- only for the money; he and his wife, Ruth, have 10 children. But 16 years of toil have convinced the most skeptical he is serious.
He'd Accept Help
Ziolkowski's volatile nature has been a handicap, for completion of his project is dependent upon financial offerings from private sources. For years he rejected offers of federal appropriations, feeling that they would interfere with developing the memorial according to his own plans. But the sculptor is beginning to feel discouraged, and when Secretary of the Interior Udall was here in 1962, Ziolkowski said, the possibility of federal assistance was broached. After all the years of lonely toil, the sculptor relented. He would take federal aid.
"I'm one man against an 18,000,000-ton mountain," he said, "and I need more help." There is no help pending at this moment, however. And he estimates that it would take about $5,000,000 to complete the carving. The money would pay for a crew of workers and for material and equipment.
If Ziolkowski has his moments of doubts, there are others who are confident. There is a saying among the Sioux, said Mrs. Ziolkowski, that it was predestined for her husband to do the carving perpetuating the memory of the proud Sioux tribes. "They say that after Crazy Horse died," she said, "his spirit swept around the world, waiting for Korczak to be born, and when he was born Crazy Horse's spirit entered Korczak's body." The Sioux point out, she said, that Crazy Horse was murdered Sept. 6, 1877, and Ziolkowski was born Sept. 6, 1908.
The sculptor, however, is concerned with reality, not legend. He is 55, and worried about whether he'll be able to complete his 30-year labor on the mountain. If more funds become available, then he can do it. If he continues alone, he feels he'll live long enough to complete all but the horse's legs.
From: Newsday, Custer SD