The last fluent speaker of the Caddo language has died, and with him, a living archive

The Caddo Nation mourns Edmond Johnson, the last fluent Caddo speaker, and launches a fund to preserve their endangered language and cultural identity.

The Caddo Nation of Oklahoma is mourning a loss that reverberates far beyond their tribal lands. Edmond Johnson, who passed away on July 14, 2025, at the age of 95, was not only a beloved elder, but also the last fluent speaker of the Caddo language—an ancient tongue once spoken across what is now Louisiana, Texas, Arkansas, and Oklahoma.

His death is more than a personal tragedy. It marks the fading of a cultural light, the quieting of a voice that carried centuries of memory, tradition, and identity.

A language that held a people together

The Caddo language is not just vocabulary and syntax. It is a vessel of cultural continuity, an oral thread tying generations together. As Bobby Gonzalez, President of the Caddo Nation, said in a statement, “Our language is what makes us Caddo.”

That identity is now under threat. Caddo belongs to the Caddoan language family, which also includes other Indigenous tongues like Wichita, Pawnee, and Arikara. All of these are critically endangered, largely because most fluent speakers are elders—and their numbers are shrinking fast. The tide of globalization has only accelerated the erosion, favoring dominant commercial languages over fragile native ones.

When Johnson died, it wasn’t just a person the tribe lost. It was, in a sense, a library of unwritten knowledge. And while many might see language extinction as an abstract academic concern, for the Caddo, it’s nothing short of an existential crisis.

Preserving what remains

In his final years, Johnson worked closely with Alaina Tahlate, the tribe’s Language Preservation Director. Together, they launched community programs and educational initiatives aimed at keeping the Caddo language alive. These were never token efforts. They were urgent, heartfelt, and deeply grounded in the belief that language is survival.

“Edmond always believed that sharing our language was sharing our soul,” Tahlate once said in an interview. “It’s how we remember who we are.”

Now, to honor his legacy, the tribe has announced the creation of a dedicated linguistic preservation fund—a move meant to empower the next generation with access to what Johnson protected all his life.

Gonzalez made it clear: they’re not giving up. “We’re doing everything we can to preserve our identity,” he said. And that includes fighting for the language that once echoed across river valleys and plains.

As always, these are not merely acts of preservation—they’re acts of resistance. Because in every Caddo word taught to a child, or whispered in ceremony, or recorded for memory, there is defiance. And there is hope.