The line often repeated in later retellings is devastating in its simplicity: there was no one left to name him.

Whether every version of the anecdote preserves his exact words is less important than the cultural problem it describes.

Names exist inside relationships.

A personal name is not merely a label attached to an individual.

It can connect someone to family, community, memory, obligation, humor, status, and history.

When those relationships disappear, a name can become difficult to carry publicly.

The museum needed a stable word for catalogues, newspapers, schedules, payroll, and conversation.

“Ishi” solved that practical problem.

It also allowed the public to feel it knew him.

Photographs could be captioned “Ishi.”