When Dr. Frank Rudeseal was just four years old, he accidentally impaled his hand on a pitchfork at his family's south Texas farm. "I didn't feel pain, but I could see light through the holes in my hand," Rudeseal said. "I went inside and poured Merthiolate on it and wrapped it in a neckerchief." His father took him to the doctor, where young Rudeseal was given a penicillin shot and a tetanus shot. When the tetanus vaccine sent him into anaphylactic shock, the doctor had to resuscitate the 4-year-old. Impressed by his brush with death, Rudeseal had new career aspirations. "On the way home, I said, 'Dad, I want to be a doctor like that man,'" Rudeseal said. "My dad was a chiropractor." Rudeseal, an internal medicine specialist at Brookwood Medical Center, actually did become a chiropractor as well, following his father's footsteps. But the real journey he has taken is tracing his steps back to his Native American ancestors. "My parents always mentioned they had some Indian blood, but no one emphasized what it was," Rudeseal said. "My grandmother said we had some Cherokee in us, and we knew the tale of her family running from the Army and trying to get into safe country. But we never had any other explanations as to when, what, who or why." His grandmother's stories were often vague, but provided just enough detail to pique his curiosity. She told him about her father meeting with his brothers in the early 1900s — probably about 1906 — and discussing whether to go to Oklahoma to report to the Indian agency there. Instead, he chose to go to Texas, rather than being sent to a reservation with limited freedom. "Because of the prejudice against Indians at that time, it was not unusual for Indians to try to pass as white," Rudeseal said. As a standout high school football player in Texas, Rudeseal felt he was different from his classmates, but he had no real evidence of his Indian ancestry. It wasn't uncommon for kids in Texas to learn skills like bow making, crafting arrows and making things from leather, such as moccasins. "I couldn't prove anything, other than that I was white," Rudeseal said. "I asked my grandmother once if I was Indian enough to apply for an education grant, and she said, 'No, you're not. You're only 1/64 Cherokee.' She didn't want me to do anything with it." Several years ago, when Rudeseal's daughter, Gretchen, questioned him about the family's roots, he encouraged her to research the Rudeseal family tree. What she discovered was not so much surprising as it was an affirmation of a feeling he'd had all his life. "My forefathers left Alabama sometime after 1813 and before the great removal (Indian Removal Act of 1830)," he said. "They lost their land after the U.S. treaties occurred — two million acres were taken from the lower Creeks. The lower Muscogee, particularly, lost land and moved west." Rudeseal and his wife, Eda, whose family also is descended from Creeks who left Alabama, grew up in the same Texas town. "Her side of the family is related to all of the people in my Creek tribe that I'm not related to," Rudeseal said. "Her family had the same stories mine did." Through their daughter's research, the Rudeseals learned much about both sides of the family, and with their involvement in the Creek Nation, have gotten elaborations on the stories from other tribe members. "A lot of history is lost to us," Rudeseal said. "The fact we were able to learn all of this is a miracle. Had it not been for my (maternal) grandmother perpetuating the stories and telling us just enough to make the folklore fit, we might not have put things together." Because Rudeseal learned the art of making a bow the way his ancestors made them, he now shares those skills with members of his tribe. "Because I am good at making all the basic crafts Creeks used, it has brought back a lot of excitement in the tribe," he said. "I'm in the middle of a pivotal genetic ancestral pool and a pivotal knowledge pool. The flat bow I make is identical to the styles made by Creeks before. It's really exciting to see that you help preserve a way of doing things that is from the past." Rudeseal's family has joined a state tribe, the Star Clan of the Muscogee Creek Tribe, which he since has learned has many ties to his ancestors. Now a tribal judge, he has helped revitalize interest in traditional crafts. Just as his father taught him to make weapons and crafts, he shares his knowledge with younger generations. "Before she died 30 years ago, my grandmother told me I would be the child who would figure out the past and connect the future," Rudeseal said. "When I asked why, she said, 'You've always been interested in the past, and God has a way of letting people see.'" It took three years for his daughter to research that past. Rudeseal learned all four of his grandparents had Creek heritage. "We have people in our family who had the Creek enrollment numbers (from the government), but we didn't know that when we came to Alabama," Rudeseal said. Inevitably, there is sadness in looking back on a race of people who had their ties to land and lineage broken. "There is pain with it," Rudeseal said. "It hurts to know people could be so callous to other people. Because the Creeks' land was taken, there were many deaths. Children were taken from their families. There were many who suffered at the hands of the U.S. Army. It changed futures and destroyed lives. There are people who still aren't over that. My people were afraid to say who they were because of that. They had to live on the periphery of life and social structure. It was a bad way to live." Rudeseal's three children and three grandsons, particularly eight-year-old twin grandsons Vaden and Dakota, participate in tribal functions and feel the strong link to their heritage. "I hope knowing who we are today helps people in the future," he said. "That's what I'm all about — the love of people. There is a lot to be learned from others and a lot to be shared. The Creek people lost a lot. I'm hoping the future is better because we do know who we are." Rudeseal says finding his heritage, as his grandmother predicted, closes the circle and completes part of his life that was missing. "Being aware of what tribe I came from and being able to know my relatives really brought life full circle for me," Rudeseal said. "I think a lot of people don't get that opportunity to know their history."