The former Osage Nation chief heard the same question in different languages and accents from across the world. Something about it bothered him.
Reporters ranging from global media companies to small radio stations sought Jim Gray’s time when director Martin Scorsese released the Oscar-nominated “Killers of the Flower Moon” in 2023. Gray held a unique position.
As a two-term chief, he led the tribe into its modern form of government at a pivotal time. He was also the great-grandson of Henry Roan, the murder victim at the heart of the Osage Reign of Terror’s unraveling. And, perhaps most importantly for interviewers, he was a natural storyteller who once owned a newspaper.
Gray spoke often about legacy, pondering the kind of world we leave to our children. His legacy is now being recognized after his sudden death on Feb. 12 at age 64. Gray led the Osage Nation with collaborative leadership that prevented the disestablishment of the nation and built up economic development beyond oil and mineral rights, starting with casino expansion.
“Jim was one of a kind, a sweet soul and funny with a big laugh,” said State Rep. Amanda Clinton, who worked with him in her former role with the Cherokee Nation. “He was always checking in with others and loved to shoot the breeze, sometimes for hours. His passing is a shock and loss to all of Indian Country.”
Traditional Osage funeral services were held Monday with a burial at the Wahzhazhe National Cemetery, south of Pawhuska. He is the fourth person to be buried in the Osage cemetery, joining his two older brothers, Andrew and Louis, who died last year.
Gray became a popular international speaker in the aftermath of the Scorsese movie, using his guest lectures, media interviews and panel appearances to advocate for Indian Country issues — especially sovereignty.
One day, a true-crime podcaster repeated the popular question: “What is the legacy of this story and what should we take from this movie?”
The quick-witted Gray answered with examples linking past and present, but he thought something was missing. His instincts as a journalist and armchair philosopher kicked in.
“Integration is not a one-way street even in our shared past,” he wrote in a 2023 Tulsa World op-ed. “Society must value not just what you know about your past but also make room for our past, too. I have done my best to explain this story and its impact on my family and my tribe.
“So maybe the best response I can give is to ask others the same question … Should society try to answer that question, only then will we know and understand the legacy of this history and this film.”
Gray turned the question around. Instead of asking him about the moral lessons, he urged others to ask that of themselves.
Lasting reputation
Muscogee (Creek) Nation Principal Chief David Hill ordered flags flown at half-staff on its properties through the week in Gray’s honor, calling him “an uncompromising defender and restorative champion of Osage sovereignty.”
While he held an impressive leadership resume, Gray’s reputation was that of an everyman with a deep intellectual curiosity. He could argue about ‘80s pop music, explain complex land acquisitions, recommend a good book and debate the merits of a Supreme Court case in one conversation.
Ashley Crawford Dailey was neighbors with Gray’s family during a time she said she “needed good neighbors and friends.” The family invited her to share meals, join craft nights and talk politics.
“We became close,” Dailey said. “I love that family, so very much. Chief Gray inspired me, made me a better person, kept me going, and taught me so much. My heart breaks for everyone who loves Jim, for everyone who was inspired by him. He will be sorely missed.”
Constitutional change
Gray was born the youngest of seven children in Pawhuska, before earning a degree from Northeastern State University. He worked for the Tahlequah Daily Press for about 10 years before buying the Native American Times, formerly the Oklahoma Indian Times.
While Gray sharpened his editorial skills, his tribe was facing a looming crisis.
The nation was operating under conditions of the 1906 Osage Allotment Act that forced the dissolution of the reservation. Over time, it created voting and citizenship inequities. By the early 2000s, the nation faced possible federal termination.
It was the only federally recognized tribe without the right for government self-determination.
Gray wrote an editorial calling for stronger Osage chief candidates to guide the nation through this uncertain time. Instead, friends talked him into running. He won in 2002, becoming the tribe’s youngest-ever chief.
Gray oversaw the opening of seven casinos after his administration successfully argued that the Osage reservation was intact. The tribe became the county’s largest employer within five years.
It was only the day before the first casino opened that the tribe received clearance from the Department of Justice clarifying land ownership issues. The nation quickly opened the others. Four years later, a court decision at odds with the DOJ findings nearly closed the businesses. In an interview with the Flyer last year, Gray recalled getting on his knees and begging Department of Interior officials to put the land in trust. It was settled, with all casinos operating legally in a trust.
Critical to the tribe’s longevity was reaffirming sovereignty. In 2004, Congress passed the Osage Reform Act that gave the tribe its right to determine citizenship and form of government.
Gray championed a new constitution with three branches of government and equal citizen voting rights. The Osage Nation Constitution was ratified March 11, 2006.
“I’m really proud of having created departments within our tribe, especially the culture and language department,” Gray said in a Tulsa World podcast. ”Who knew 12 years later Martin Scorsese with $250 million from Apple would want to incorporate our language and culture into the film? Had that happened 30 years ago, I’m not sure we could have helped them to the extent we did.”
Family legacy
Born James Roan Gray, he is the namesake of his great-grandfather, Henry Roan, who was killed in February 1923. Local rancher and crime boss William Hale was convicted as the mastermind.
It was among the first major, high-profile crimes investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Many books, including David Grann’s “Killers of the Flower Moon,” and documentaries have featured the case.
When Scorsese signed on to produce a movie, Gray had concerns the violence would be center stage and the Osage perspective minimized. The director met privately with Osage citizens, ripped up the script and hired tribal citizens to be part of nearly every aspect of the process.
Gray became an outspoken defender of the film: “It’s not just my family’s story, or my Tribal Nation’s story, it’s a story of America,” he posted to social media.
Gray is survived by his wife, Olivia (“Libbi”), seven children and seven grandchildren. His wife is known as a national advocate for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and founded the grassroots organization Northeastern Oklahoma Indigenous Safety & Education (NOISE).
“In most circles in Indian Country, I’m not Chief Gray, I’m Libbi’s husband. I’m very proud of that,” he once said.
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