Long poverty stricken, Utah's Indian tribes are striving for economic independence. Beginning today, a five-day Deseret Morning News series — "From poverty to promise" — examines how they are tapping their human and natural resources.

FORT DUCHESNE, Uintah County — John Jurrius understands why people in Indian Country don't trust him. He is a smooth-talking Texan who travels by jet, drives a $50,000 "ride" and has been married more than once. He is also white.

"I'm not here to save you," he told tribal leaders before going to work for the 3,100-member Ute Tribe. "I'm not here to further your cause as Native Americans."

What he would do, he told them, was get the most money possible for oil and gas riches pulled from Utah's largest Indian reservation. And the 45-year-old maverick has done just that. On the verge of financial collapse in 2001, the tribe's stated worth now tops $100 million.

For his part, Jurrius receives a salary of $62,500 a month.

For 50 years, lackluster economic growth and debilitating poverty on Utah's Indian reservations have not changed.

But a new day is dawning thanks to an energy boom, "out-of-the-box" money-making strategies and more aggressive protection of oil, gas, water and land resources in Indian Country.

A five-day series beginning today by the Deseret Morning News examines these and other efforts by Utah's five Indian nations to kick-start their economies. As part of the series "From Poverty to Promise," reporters traveled to reservation lands throughout the state and met with tribal elders, community leaders, state officials and dozens of Utah's Native Americans to assess their financial future.

Tribal lands occupy 4 percent of the state, and tribal members make up 2 percent of Utah's population. Many have moved to urban areas, mostly along the Wasatch Front, but nearly 50 percent of Utah Indians still live on their native homelands.

What is clear, say experts on and off the reservations, is that the future of Utah's Indian nations rests upon their ability to reclaim and capitalize on their sovereignty. And tribal leaders say their efforts today will determine the cultural, educational and economic livelihoods of the young people among the state's 33,000 Native Americans.

It is, admittedly, an uphill battle.