An Alaskan Adventure

PART I

THE JOURNEY

Chapter 1

PREPARATION

OUR FIRST

Alaskan challenge began while still living in our home in Illinois. We had just had our fifth child, baby Gordon. Ed, who had been teaching school for six years, was eager to get into the administrative end of education. He had been scouting the Placement Bureau of Northern Illinois University, from which we both had graduated as teachers. However, nothing looked interesting enough until he came across a notice from Juneau, Alaska. The Alaskan Department of Education was looking for teachers and administrators to fill positions throughout the state. Ed, who loved to travel and had always had a yen to visit Alaska, was captivated. He brought home the information and discussed it with me. I’ll admit, I wasn’t too eager at first. I have no particular affinity for cold weather—in fact, I dread it! I love warmth and sunshine. But then, I recalled that just the year before, I’d had the treat of a lifetime. Ed had taken our young children (only four in number then) and me on a wonderful summer vacation in Hawaii, while he attended the University of Hawaii. I reasoned thatany husband, who managed such a rewarding venture on a meager budget, deserved to be indulged.

Therefore, Ed applied for a principalship in Alaska. By the time he was interviewed and offered a position, it was already the middle of August. We sat down and had a long discussion. One of the incentives for going to Alaska was the fact that we could take advantage of the long summer months, and travel through the many wonderful national parks and campgrounds of the western United States and Canada. Now it was nearing the end of summer. We had a month old baby, a house that had to be either sold or rented, and a houseful of possessions to be either stored, or packed for the trip—and he was expected to arrive in about two weeks! We felt that we could manage all this if we really had to, but we didn’t want to give up the longer summer vacation trip. Therefore, Ed declined the offer, but asked to be considered for a position the following year. As soon as Ed did this, we relaxed. We knew that now a trip to Alaska was possible. However, we would have time to consider and re-consider the feasibility for going there to live when our children, Glenn, Gary, Gregory, Gale and Gordon would be only nine, eight, six, four and one year, respectively. If we decided to go, we would have time to plan an itinerary, which could be relaxing and include the entire vacation from mid-June until September. We could make arrangements for house and furniture. Also, we could get our relatives and friends used to the idea of our going. The latter proved to be the most difficult of all.

Our first reaction was a look of disbelief, and comments such as, You must be kidding! Why anyone would want to go on a camping trip with five children up to the wilds of Alaska was beyond the comprehension of most people. However, we had some friends who encouraged us, and we had the opportunity to meet others who had been there. People, we

Found, had only two feelings about Alaska. They either loved it or hated it. There were no moderate feelings towards Alaska. For the most part, we found that those who had gone there by choice were fascinated and intrigued by this vast frontier. A land where you could still homestead a piece of land, where the wilderness was yet untouched, and where you could find civilization in stages, ranging from a modern metropolis as you would find in any other state of the Union, to a small town comparable to one of the old West. Those who hated it were usually ex-service personnel, who had been forced to spend time in Alaska at some remote Army camp.

As for us, once our decision had been made in favor of Alaska, we began making plans. In January, we began scanning the newspaper want ads for camping equipment. In February, we saw an ad for the sale of a tent-trailer. We called, and made an appointment to see it that evening. When we arrived, we found that another couple had gotten there before us. We had been delayed by a heavy snowstorm. The owner was in his garage, showing how the tent-trailer could be set up in a mere ten minutes. Nothing seemed less inviting than a canvas tent-trailer on a cold wintry night with the snow swirling through the cracks of a cold garage. However, it was just what Ed and I wanted, and the price was almost right. We stood there silently, hoping that the other couple would be discouraged by the elements of the moment and it would be ours to bargain for. Luck was with us. After the other couple left, we entered the owner’s home. Having missed out on the sale to one couple, he was very willing to come to a price agreeable to us. When we left, we not only had the tent-trailer, but a camp stove, lamp, table, and other camping gear.

About this time, Ed heard again from Alaska. This time, they had several positions available. One was a principalship by the Elmondorf Air Force Base near Anchorage. Anotherwas near Fairbanks. However, the one we became most interested in was for a position of Superintendent of Schools for Bethel, Alaska. We had never heard of this town before. We scanned several maps of Alaska, before we found it. It is west of Anchorage and southeast of Nome. It is near the Bering Sea, and on the west bank of the Kuskokwim River. At first glance, it seemed to us but a short trip from Anchorage to Bethel. We had not taken into consideration the enormous size of this, our largest state. We later found that Bethel was actually about 430 miles west of Anchorage; and that the only way to get there was to travel by boat along the Bering Sea, or to fly over the towering mountain range that extends from north of Mount McKinley and continues down through the Aleutian Islands. There are no roads to Bethel!

We sent to Alaska for information about the town. We received a brochure giving us the following information: Bethel is an Eskimo village—one of the largest such villages in Alaska. It is the transportation and supply center for the neighboring Eskimo villages along the Kuskokwim River. The population of Bethel is about 1400, predominately Eskimo with some Indian and a few Caucasian. The town was established by the Moravian Church. However, there is also a Catholic, a Baptist, and a Pentecostal Church. There are two schools, two theaters, a bank, a library, several general stores, modern streetlights, and even a dial telephone system. A few miles outside of Bethel is a government hospital which is just for the Eskimos and Indians. It can be used by others in the town only for emergencies. Also, outside of town is an Air Force Base, one of the bases for our Dew Line—the outermost protection of our greater United States.

This brochure gave us the cold facts or statistics. What it failed to mention was that Bethel was made up of people who possessed the old-fashioned type of neighborliness that typified communities of a century ago. We received our first inkling of this when we heard from several members of the Bethel school staff. They informed us of conditions in Bethel which the brochure did not mention. They told us what to expect in the way of climate, housing and cost of living. Whereas, some of the information might have been discouraging to some, it whetted our curiosity and enthusiasm. After all, these people were living there. Some of them had families, too; although not the size of ours.

This personal contact with persons living there was the deciding factor in Ed’s accepting the position. Ed’s enthusiasm was enhanced by the fact that the position was more than he had asked for—the Superintendent of Schools of the largest state-operated school in Alaska. (The big cities of Anchorage, Fairbanks, and Juneau had locally operated schools.)

Now we began our planning in earnest. I made up a list of essentials to be taken to Alaska such as: dishes, cooking utensils, linens and clothing. Most of these things had to be packed in cardboard boxes, wrapped in brown paper, secured with heavy string and sent ahead in care of the Bethel schools. I planned what things were to be taken for our nine-week camping trip. We advertised to rent our home. Possessions we did not need in Alaska were stored in our attic along with our furniture. What a job that was—carting heavy pieces up a disappearing stairway into that cavern under the roof.

I requested a wholesale supply catalog from a company in Seattle, Washington. Upon the advice of a Bethel teacher, we had decided to buy a year’s supply of groceries in advance. This had to be ordered before July 15th, since the fall boat arrived in Bethel in early September, and there would not be another supply boat in Bethel before the following summer. Buying in quantity and wholesale was cheaper than buying in the Bethel stores. However, high shipping charges brought the total price of the groceries up to or beyond what we were used to paying. For baby, Gordy, we bought a narrow collapsible net playpen which could be raised to crib height, and fit perfectly in the center aisle of the tent-trailer. We all received tetanus and typhoid shots, plus the good wishes of our doctor.

During these months of planning, preparation, and packing, one comment was heard time and again, You’re so brave! We were not brave, just busy. We had checked out the requirements for taking a family to such a remote Eskimo village. Bethel had a civilian doctor, plus the government hospital for emergencies. The schools were excellent. One was an old log school. However, a new, completely equipped school had been constructed the year before, and was staffed with well-qualified teachers. There were churches and stores, and we would have our own basic food staples for a year. Most important, we already had acquaintances there, who were writing and encouraging us. Yes, we were too busy to have thoughts for any unforeseen mishaps. As the days of spring grew warmer, and the grass, buds and flowers gave their promise of summer, our excitement mounted.

Chapter 2

TRAVELING THE ROAD

WE HAD

planned to leave for Alaska on the same day that school terminated, Thursday, June 14, 1962. However, it was not until Friday at 2:40 PM that we finally had everything loaded on the station wagon and tent-trailer for our departure. In a way it was a blessing that we had this unforeseen delay, because early Friday morning a neighbor apologetically informed us that one of her children had broken out with measles during the night. Since our children had been playing together with hers the day before, everyone was undoubtedly exposed. Thus, it was necessary to make a quick trip to our doctor’s office on Friday morning, so that our children could receive gamma-globulin shots to prevent their getting measles.

We still expected to be packed and ready to leave by noon. This was the final deadline that we had set for ourselves, since the people, who were renting our home, planned to move in at that time. We thought surely that by the time their moving van had been to their previous home, loaded all their furnishing and arrived at our place, that we would be gone. It did not work out that way at all. Somehow, it seemed that we kept having one additional box or item to pack into the station wagon or tent-trailer. We were still beating a path between house and vehicle by the time they had completely unloaded their van. We would not say that our tenants were worried, but there might have been some concern over who was going to sleep in the house in the event we did not manage to leave. When we finally reached the point where it was time to pack the children in the station wagon, we found, to our dismay, that four fitted fine, but what were we going to do with the fifth child? Somehow, we managed to re-arrange a few boxes and squeeze everyone in. Then, looking very much like Gypsies, Alaskan Gypsies that is, we were on our way. Mush!

Since the last few days had been rather hectic and we