Hello from The White Hogan

At some point in our lives, we all pause and ask ourselves: Who am I? Where do I come from? My name is Paulla Bonnell Miller.  Daughter of Jon and Paulla Bonnell, granddaughter of John and Virginia Bonnell founders, owners and operators of The White Hogan.  It has been twenty years since we closed the shop and two years later lost my father, Jon — known to many as Jonny or Butch — to cancer. Those who knew him remember his quiet demeanor. He never sought attention or credit. Instead, he lived with integrity, patience, creativity, and thoughtful restraint. He was honest and thorough — and, in many ways, a walking encyclopedia of Native American art, culture, and life.

For him, it was never just a profession. It was his life’s work, his livelihood, and his deep respect and love for the culture were unwavering.

So often, we study our reflection — searching for familiar features in our hair, our eyes, or the curve of a smile that mirrors someone before us. But identity reaches far beyond outward appearance. It lives in culture — in the traditions, values, and stories that shape us.

Culture is often defined as the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements of a people. While that is true, my family’s history reflects something even more personal: a blending of cultures — distinct, beautiful, and deeply influential — that shaped who we are.

Today as I write this first entry, I think about the storyteller.

In Native American tradition, storytelling is how generations remain connected — to ancestry, to heritage, to lessons, and to truth. Stories teach, preserve, and inspire. As a child, I was drawn to a polychrome clay storyteller figure my mother kept. Traditionally depicted as a woman — though over time also represented as men and animals — the storyteller symbolizes the sharing of knowledge and tradition.

Mine stands about sixteen inches tall and holds nearly twenty-seven children. You can almost hear her voice — steady and warm — sharing stories grounded in truth, gently quieting the most restless child while passing down traditions made richer with each retelling. Each generation adds color and depth, making the stories personal and powerful for the eager ears listening.

That same storyteller sits nearby. She reminds me of the responsibility and privilege to do the same — to share, to educate, to learn, and to grow.

This website and blogs are not about me personally. They are about a culture — about the life that was shaped before me by the people, events, artistry, and integrity that created a legacy. It is the coming together of distinct personalities and extraordinary talents.

My father spent summers on the reservation with his cousin Randy and his aunt. He worked in trading posts alongside his parents throughout his life. He encouraged growth in others — whether in politics, artistry, career paths, or simply in becoming better people. He mentored artists of all ages, investing in them both personally and financially. He believed in their potential.  When the White Hogan Silversmithing closed, a chapter of that legacy closed with it. It was a legacy that began long before my father – with his parents – one that cannot be recreated.

But it can be remembered.

This is where we begin. Our goal is to carry the legacy forward in a new and meaningful way. By honoring the past, we allow it to shape the future. We seek to understand where we came from and to share not only the extraordinary artistry, but also the stories that unfolded along the way. We invite you to be part of this journey—share your connections, your memories, and the pieces you have collected or inherited. It is through these shared experiences that we grow. Life is a journey, and its stories deserve to be remembered.  The storyteller begins.