If this was a Jeopardy question, you’d answer:  “what is a traditional Indian battle cry just before invading the enemy” … heck, this is something you probably did as a kid, running around in the backyard holding a feather to the back of your head, and moving your fingers back-and-forth over your mouth while yelling “woowoowoowoowoowoo” like a banshee.  You didn’t do that?  Oops!  Well, I did it with my childhood friend Linda Crosby and we had a huge Indian-motif blanket strung up at a corner of the fence and draped into our respective yards which we used as our teepee.  That has to be five decades ago for goodness sake.  Several times this week WWJ mentioned a big celebration at Council Point Park in Lincoln Park commemorating  the 250^th anniversary of Chief Pontiac’s council which convened on April 27, 1763.  (Yawn.)  But, the WWJ story promised fanfare and a glimpse in history.  The Lincoln Park Historical Society touted the week-long festivities on their website along with a history lesson.   Since it is a stone’s throw away I decided this was my destination for today’s 2 ¾ mile promenade.  The park itself stretches over many city blocks, has a nice footpath close to the creek’s edge and is just the perfect place to be on an absolutely fabulous Spring day.  Now, while I wasn’t expecting to see an Indian brave riding bareback, hanging onto his pinto pony’s mane in one hand, and a tomahawk in another, a few Indian artifacts scattered about might have set the scene.  A totem pole, a wigwam, some smoke signals perhaps?  A tiny canvas teepee was the only evidence of any festivities and it was nestled between alot of R.V.s and Port-A-Potties.  I half-expected a vendor pitching elephant ears, cotton candy and popcorn to be present as well.  Lincoln Park’s version of City-organized festivities usually are disappointing.   While I was never a cowboy-n-Indian movie fan, if I were to reach back in the ol’ memory bank, I can pull out a picture and fondly recall a 1992 trip to Cherokee, North Carolina made by my mom and me.  We went the first week of May to Kentucky and North Carolina – the weather was perfect for sightseeing but it was so foggy and chilly the morning we planned to traverse the Great Smoky Mountains, that our waitress at the diner where we ate breakfast advised us to wait until afternoon to do the twists and turns on the winding roads to avoid hitting icy patches.  To pass the time, we stopped in Cherokee, North Carolina at a small kitschy-type place called Teepee Village which was part of the Cherokee Indian Reservation at the entrance to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  The little town’s chief attraction (if you’ll pardon the pun) was Chief Henry.  A huge weathered sign proclaimed this elderly Chief to be the most-photographed Indian in the world.  The Chief,  who donned a traditional trailing headdress, beaded garb and fringed moccasins, charged a couple of bucks to have your picture standing next to him.  It was soon evident Chief Henry liked the ladies and when he posed with them, he fairly preened as he gave a broad smile, a little wink and threw his arm around their shoulders.  My mom and I also posed with the big man in front of the Teepee Village Strip Mall forever capturing a remembrance of that morning detour from our scenic Smoky Mountains adventure.