Rod McAfee was Akimel O’odham, a proud member of the Gila River Indian Community, an agriculturally rich and generous society which was the first Indian reservation created in Arizona. 

He was born on the summer solstice in 1931 in Phoenix, Ariz., the youngest of five children born to Johnson McAfee and Sara Patton. Johnson was a printer who became tribal governor and later tribal judge. Sara’s father owned a general store in Sacaton. 

As a child, Rod loved spending time with his grandfather, Mason McAfee, and other traditional elders who taught him the O’odham dances and culture. His parents, however, wanted all their children to become educated in the Western Culture ways, so they sent him to school. He ran away from Tucson Indian boarding school when he was in the sixth grade and never returned. 

Instead, he rode horses and worked for white ranchers in the area. He was a good rider, and loved breaking horses.  He made a little money riding bucking horses in local rodeos and eventually married Jeanette, also Akimel O’odham,  in 1949 and had eight children: Jackie, Faye, Ivory, Casey, Myrna, Rosa, Rodney Jr., and Arlen. 

In 1964 he left the reservation and worked picking fruit, and as a ranch hand until he wound up in Potlach, Wash., where he worked as a logger and had his own rodeo school. Rod battled alcoholism for the first half of his life, and in the late 1970’s ended up on the streets of Portland, where he was found by a Native American Rehabilitation Association outreach worker who asked him if he wanted to sober up and go into treatment. He said yes.

Rod’s treatment and recovery from alcoholism led him into an entirely new life. He soon became a drug and alcohol counselor for NARA, and later was the spirituality director. He began working with incarcerated native men around the Northwest and built sweat lodges at many prisons. Rod’s ceremonies were open to all, and soon his work expanded beyond NARA and the prisons to include people from all races and religions.  

He became a Sundancer and danced at the Mt. Hood Sundance, and later at 4 Nations near Medford, and was a helper at Sungleska Oyate and the lead helper for the Pilot Rock Sundance near Ashland.  He met his future wife Linda Neale in 1990.  They married in 1995 and moved to SW Portland where they began to hold monthly community sweat lodge ceremonies. Linda & Rod hosted dozens of indigenous elders from around the globe to speak their truth to people from the dominant culture – many of those talks were recorded and saved for posterity.

Rod continued his ceremony work after his retirement from NARA, sometimes leading as many as four sweat lodge ceremonies each week. He and Linda traveled around the US, Mexico, South America, and Europe leading ceremonies, connecting with other indigenous elders, and speaking to various groups. Wherever he spoke, he would say, “You are all good people, you see I know that. You all breathe the same air and drink the same water that I do…”. He said this in prisons, in schools, in churches, in Native American gatherings… everywhere. Rod’s  words went deeper than tribal affiliation, deeper than race, penetrating into the very essence of what it is to be a human being.  

In 2000, Rod and Linda, with the help of friends and family, restored Linda’s family homestead in Harney County. Rod loved the homestead – the wide open spaces, the cowboys, the brandings, the rodeo, the birds, and the desert. It all reminded him of home. 

In his later years, he went beyond serious horse and car accidents, stage 4 lymphoma, and a debilitating spinal cord injury. He always maintained his sense of humor, and rarely complained, giving his full attention to anyone who consulted him.  He continued to attend sundances, now as a supporter – talking to and fanning the dancers in the arbor. 

Rod became an ancestor on March 23rd, 2021, surrounded by members of his family and community who held him in love. He is survived by his wife, Linda Neale; his children, Jackie, Faye, Ivory, Casey, Myrna and Rosa; his stepdaughter, Joanna, many grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild. He requested to be buried at the family homestead in Harney County.

As a friend said of him, Rod changed many lives and affected so many people by simply being quiet and minding his own business.