Life became a daily struggle. Some people died from exposure during the harsh highland winters. The survivors had to start from scratch, learning how to plant in the different soil, where to find water and the acorns they ground for cooking.
She attended Sherman Indian Institute, a boarding school for Indian children (now Sherman Indian High School). During World War II she worked as a riveter. That's how she met her future husband, Charles Brown, who was serving in the Army at the time. They were married in 1951 and had two sons and a daughter. Those children gave them more than 20 grandchildren and several great-grandchildren.
The family struggled -- her son remembers receiving donated clothes that didn't always fit -- but unlike others on the reservation, Brown and her husband both worked. She became a home aide nurse and her husband was a firefighter. They had a better lifestyle than many.
Every weekend they piled into the family's 1950 Chevy and headed to powwows. She made it a point to introduce her children to different kinds of people. She taught them to respect all humans equally. “She always instilled that in us. 'There’s nobody better than you. We’re all brothers and sisters. We all bleed the same,' ” her son quoted Brown as saying.
When the Viejas band came into wealth through gaming, she tried to make sure their values didn't slip away. She was too familiar with poverty from the early days of the reservation, but she also understood the freedom that comes from relying on nature and taking only what is needed. She warned others to be responsible and not become burdened by material excess.
Financial privilege came with another price, she felt: The tribe grew apart. “The elders … felt we lost a lot. Instantly. … We lost the tightness with the community we had,” her son said.
After death, the spirit stays on earth for a year, the Kumeyaay believe. Sending personal belongings to the sky as smoke makes the afterlife more welcoming for the spirit. Traditionally, they burned clothes and willow dwellings. Today, some even burn cars and motorcycles. Archaeological artifacts show they have been doing this for hundreds of years. Some Kumeyaay say the practice stretches back to prehistoric times.
Another purpose is to prevent disputes about inheritances and help the family begin to say goodbye. "They're missing her," said Viejas Vice Chairman Robert Cita Welch, who attended the ceremony. "They'll see stuff they bought her or gave her, that's going to go to her, and they'll feel for happy for that."
Friday evening, everyone gathered at her daughter Hazel Talamantez's house, where Brown spent her final years. A line of male prayer singers shook halymaas, or gourd rattles, and a line of female birdsong dancers moved rhythmically, left right, left right.
And the fire raged.
Up in flames went Ida Brown's green sofa, where she'd knit and sew. That was where she watched her favorite channel, Court TV. Up in flames went her bright blue towel with the starfish design, her Tupperware, the motorized wheelchair she hated having to use.
"Everything goes," her son said. "It makes it a lot easier."
Up in flames went her books and jewelry, her bed and the books she read. So did the refrigerator that kept the pork chops she savored.
"It's a release," he said.
Up in flames went her favorite outfit, a pink blouse, black pants and her soft, comfy grandma shoes. Pink was her color of choice, and dancing at tribal gatherings just like this one was her passion.
"She danced until she was probably 80 years old, to the Kumeyaay singers," her son said. "She’s probably dancing now."