Family Time and Reminiscing

 

 

 

Last Friday I had the pleasure of a short visit with my favorite brother, Jim, and one of my favorite nephews, Jason.   I had seen neither in five years.

 

I braved the wet, slushy, and slippery highway in Turnagain Pass that necessitated 4WD at 50 mph, five construction zones with lowered speed limits and two with flag stops, an accident and three first-responder vehicles pull-over-and-stops, to get to Anchorage where they in town for a family wedding.

L-R along the newly opened Seward highway, Dad, Lauralee, Jim, Mon and Karen, me. ca 1950s

Living and growing up in Alaska back then meant knowing little of other relatives.   We heard their names, but often couldn't figure out how we were related.  Phone calls were non-existent, due to the difficulty involved.  You had to schedule a long distance call.   Air fare?   Unaffordable.

L-R:   Sister-in-law Karen, Jim, and Me.

Mom with Jim at Campbell Creek.   I'm the one at the end of the log, "rowing" with a stick.    This was the only "car wash" in the city.   You pulled down the the edge of the water and washed your vehicle by hand.

Campbell creek today.   One of the best burger joints in town is located there now.

My brother married into a Seward family with five sisters and three still live in Alaska, so there are occasions for Alaska visits.  Jim and his wife Karen, along with master vintner son Joel, my other favorite nephew, own and operate CAVU Cellars, a winery in Walla Walla, WA.

Did Jim's Kool-Ade stand give him the training to operate a winery?

Surely this did.

 

Jason and his wife Linnea live in Juneau, Ak.  While Karen was attending a bridal shower, Linnea was attending a meeting with fellow employees.  

This big spruce tree is gone now.  I never did get too far when I climbed it because of the pitch that was so hard to remove from my skin.

Sweet little Jim

 

Jim and I spent lunch catching up and reminiscing about growing up  during the 1950s in Woodland Park, a suburb of Anchorage.   Mostly we talked about all the things we did that we never told our parents about—like playing in the treacherous clay of Cook Inlet and seeing how stuck we could get, then washing off every bit of clay before we went home.

We stayed with our aunt and uncle in the Hale apartments at 5th and Gambell in Anchorage until we found our own place.   A fire in the apartment was caused by a window curtain blowing over the open flame on a  cookstove.

 

We rode our bikes far into the forest at Point Woronzof, visiting the ruins of an as yet unidentified log cabin that was sunken into the moss, its roof collapsed.  I always guessed it might have been a camp for Inlet watchers during WWII.   It also could have been a fox or mink farm.   We never found out.

Jim 'skiing' at a hill off 3rd avenue in Anchorage.

 

We never asked permission; we just went.   Such freedom we had, compared to kids today.  

The pond behind our house, the result of dredging, something that could never be done today.

 

“All the things we did and all the places we’d go, it’s a wonder we never ran into bears,” I told Jim.

 

We picked up Karen from the bridal shower and ran into one of my favorite authors, Mike Travis*, also an in-law, and I told him again how much I loved the books he wrote. 

 

Then we drove to our old family home on Brookside, and the log cabin our parents built.   It’s still there, only it looks a lot smaller.   As far as I know, it’s had only two owners since our parents sold it in the 1960s, and both have loved it as much as we did.

Mom and Jim peeling logs.   I participated, too.

The finished house.

 

Much to our dismay, Fish Creek was subsumed into underground drains and pipes and no longer provides the water to fill the pond.   Its bed is a mess of grasses and other vegetation.   No place for frogs, or beavers, or muskrats, or fish.

On the other side of the street, and up a few houses, was the stump of a birch tree.   I asked Jason to stop so I could get a photo of it. 

 

What's left of our favorite tree--the stump at right.   I thought it was a lot bigger.

 

I was surprised how small the trunk was.   This used to be a tree that my BFF Judi and I climbed a lot, pretending it was a pirate ship, or a mystery vehicle, an airplane, or anything we wanted it to be.   I loved that birch tree and I have been thinking about Judi a lot because we recently re-connected after many decades.   The birch was on her property.

 

Jason drove to the end of the block where a 45-degree corner went up the steep hill.   “We used to ride our sleds down this hill,” I told Jason.   He gave me a fisheye look and I assured him that we always posted a lookout on the corner.

Tjis is the only photo I can find that has a part of the steep road at left that we used to sled down, always posting a lookout at the sharp corner.

On that corner now is a small park.  In 1948, there was a Quonset hut there where our family lived while the log home was being built.  After we moved into the first 20’x20’ part of the log home, my aunt and uncle moved into the Quonset.   

The Quonset is more correctly called a Jamesway, as the roof does not reach the ground like a true Quonset.

I have dreams to this day of living in the Quonset and wishing I could again.  However, with it being right on that corner, the location was treacherous in the winter and my aunt’s white picket fence was taken out a few times by vehicles sliding into it.

Jim with a bit of the Quonset hut.

Perhaps our first Christmas in the Quonset.   We had running water in the kitchen, but a honey bucket in what would become the bathroom.   Dad dug a trench and hooked up lines to a cesspool.

Christmas 1948

Quonset huts were a big thing in Anchorage back then.   Here, my journalism class at Anchorage High School was in a real Quonset.   When I was in the 4th grade, my class was in a Quonset.

A special treat for me.  We played in the dirt road a lot!   The two-block long street known as Brookside is hard-surfaced now, but with no curbs, gutters, or storm drains.

The Quonset after our aunt and uncle moved in and improved it.

The Quonset hut is long gone, replaced by a neighborhood park with a sturdy guard rail that prevents cars sliding into  the park.

Google street view of where the Quonset once sat.

 

We talked about the neighborhood kids we knew back then, where they lived and where they are now.

 

It was a good time to live in Alaska.

 

As I told my brother and nephew, “I am forever thankful that we grew up where we did and when we did, and that it was in Alaska.”

 

 

***

 

*Michael D. Travis:  Author of:

 

“Melosi”—a teenager’s search for a summer job and his coming of age.

 

         Funny, heart-warming, and full of adventure in the Alaska bush

 

“El Gancho”—Mike weaves a tale from family stories (that he heard of his great-grandfather’s journey out of Mexico way back when, including a botched train robbery, Pancho Villa, and the death-defying rodeo experience of a colleda( one who flips bulls by their tails)

 

         Who cares if it’s all true?   Mike says it is.  It’s a darned good story.

 

“The Landmen”—written with Armand Spielman, the incredible story of how the preliminary struggles and obstacles to secure the right of way for the Trans-Alaska Pipeline were overcome.

 

         An astounding story with lots of names familiar to Alaskans.  It evoked lots of memories for me.

 

All these books have multiple five-star reviews.   I concur.

El Gancho is hiding among the stacks and failed to appear for an impromptu photo session.
Why I have two copies of Melozi is obscured by time.   I must have meant to send it to someone.

 

 By "stacks" I mean;

Now do you understand my difficulty in find El Gancho?

The Terribly Sad and Lamentable Tale of a Vision Unrealized.

The Terribly Sad Tale of a Vision Unrealized

Photographers are told to visualize the photo they want, imagine it in all its colors, and lines, and background. Then go for it!

Today, I had two tips. Each by itself would make a cool photo but combining the two would result in a masterpiece!!

Tip #1: the resident Trumpeter swans are still at Tern Lake, despite the ice covering most of the lake.

Tip #2: people are skating on the thin ice of Tern Lake.

I grabbed my camera and drove to the lake, all while visualizing the photo I wanted. Subjects: skaters and swans. Light: pewter gray day, so that was decided for me

Background: the leafless trees on the far side of the lake.

Composition: to be determined but hopefully skaters in front of, beside, or behind the swans.

IMAGINE!!!

When I arrived, the skaters were gone, as were the swans. No where to be seen.

All I got was this crappy shot of skate marks on the frosted ice of Tern Lake.

Well, I told you it was a sad tale.

The Mysterious Spirit Stone

 

This is called a Spirit Stone and it is an excellent example of such. See the round thing in the center and knob at the bottom?

Spirit stones are said to be formed as mineral laden water runs through sandy ground and forms around a grain of sand or small object.

From a web site: "The stones are concretions, rocks that form in layers around some object, like a grain of sand. The stones are over 10,000 years old . from quaternary sediments, which means less than 2 million years old."

Rather like pearls, a beauty formed around a grain on sand. In this case, it might be a grain of volcanic or glacial origin.

This particular stone was found on an Alaskan beach. Sorry, but that's all the information as to location that I will give because I have seen photos of people removing buckets full of them.

So, I got this thing....

 Went to the post office a couple weeks ago and found a large envelope in my box.

Well, well.   How nice.

There was a ceremony last August in which this was presented but I couldn't attend because I was across the Inlet looking for bears to photograph.  The information came from an interview which follows and is dated.   This, 2024, was my 18th year in picking up litter.

Goes rather nicely with these from a couple years ago:

 Anchorage TV anchor Mike Ross of KTUU News found me in Turnagain Pass, dressed in my finest armored denim to protect me from scratchy bushes, picking up litter and interviewed me.  Mike says it remains one of his favorite interviews.   He did a great job.😁

And this was especially nice, and a surprise.   This commendation also used Mike's interview for information.   

United States Senator Dan Sullivan's office contacted me a few years ago and this resulted:

Sen. Sullivan also sent me a copy of his speech printed on parchment and in a leather-bound folder.   It's very nice.   It all means I'm forever included in the Congressional record.

Enough tooting my own horn.   How about a trumpeter swan cygnet.  I call this photo "Embracing the Light."

"Embracing the light".   Trumpeter swan cygnet.

Hey, Clyde!

 Clyde, sorry to say your birthday present arrived in Anchorage last week.   It has since melted.  

Nothing here yet, so no picture.  

Hope you and yours are happy and healthy!

Hugs,

Oscar

Those Back-to-School Assignment , Part Three

 Part Three

Of How I Spent My Summer

Continuing with those dreaded back-to-school assignments that the teachers always gave, we are now into August.   

I had just enough log home stain to get a coat on the parts of two walls that were sanded and treated.   When I went to Anchorage to buy more stain, I discovered that Home Depot no longer stocked the Behr Log Cabin stain and that I had to order it:  4 to 6 weeks because it had to come by barge!

That would definitely put me into the rainy August weather but I had no other option, so I ordered it.

Then, I started on the east wall, the one I've refinished three or four times already.  It catches the worst of the bad weather and I decided, after some research, to use a different stain--Super Deck stain made for log homes.

My neighbor Lou came over to sand the logs that were too high for me to reach.

I did manage to alter one fingerprint when the grinder's cord caught on the ladder.   It never did hurt.

I was astonished to find out that some of these stains, Super Deck included, allowed the underlying wood to "turn gray naturally!"   That's what I was trying to avoid. 

Then, Super Deck log stain also isn't stocked and I had to order that , too, but was told about ten days.

Because of rainy days and wanting to keep the sanded logs dry, I decided to hang tarps to protect the east wall.   This was done with the help of my neighbor Mike and pretty soon, Tarp Tunnel was done.

This included a long tarp hung from a second story dormer!

The white stuff on the brick mold around the door if called Peel Stop.   Its purpose is to fill and smooth paint that has been peeling.   Works great.

Working on staining.

   

Ladders, always ladders.   Sometimes a plank laid between two ladders as a jerry-rigged scaffolding.

Something I found hilarious in hanging the tarps is that I COULD NOT drive a screw through the old, protected Behr Log Cabin stain!    It won't hold up to weather, but it sure is tough otherwise.

I wondered if the tarps would scare the Steller's jays from landing on the dining room window sill.   Didn't faze them at all!!!

See the little stinker at right?   He had to fly about ten feet behind the tarps!

Finally, two coats of stain and some drying days later, the tarps came down.

And were rolled up for storage.

By this time, the new stain was aging nicely with the old stain and you could barely tell the difference.

While I waited for the Super Deck stain to arrive, I sanded the logs above the carport.   Then, stained them once I got the stain.

More ladder scaffolding.

The cedar shakes are on next year's list of chores.

I also refinished the log-and-a-half above my garage doors.   I started working on the logs above, but decided that will go on next year's list of chores.

I

Tah-dah!   The finished east wall:   logs, trim, and brick mold around the door.

The dark spot at left is just shadow.   Note the brick mold around the door has been painted.

The rest of the wall:

Restained front deck:

And redone rear deck:

Note the logs.   I restored all the log siding from the kitchen window down to the deck and the stain has aged so it blends right in with the upper logs.

Then came the firewood project.   My electric provider, Chugach Electric Assn., had a contractor in the area ll last winter whose job it was to clear electric easements and take down any dead spruce that might fall on the power lines.   They took down five or six very large spruce on my property.

Then, a friend from Anchor Point came up and got the usable wood out of the forest and now I needed to get that wood split and under cover before winter.

Here's the problem.   I can no longer pull the cord on the recoil starter with enough authority to convince the engine to start.   My friend Julie did that.

I split some of the wood but soon realize that, for reasons I won't go into here, that I needed a lot of help with the lifting/splitting part.    Julie, and then with her friend, split the rest of the wood while I hauled it to the carport and emptied the trailers.

Once I had it stacked I could estimate that I had three cords of new firewood.

 

And that's the end of my What I Did this Summer essay.   All in all, "I get by with a little help from my friends."

Now, as time allows, to get back to the Fur and Feathers Journals.