Returning to Alaska 1970
As a young high school student in Alaska, I had loved the place and planned to return once I had finished my education. What I hadn’t planned was meeting Patricia Slazyk. I fell for her hard upon our meeting and upon returning from that first date I told my college roommate Ken that I would marry her.
I graduated in 1968 and became engaged to Patricia about that same time. We married in April of 1969 after It was discussed that we would work to gather a nest egg before departing to Alaska. Of course, that was a plan, and there were any number of events that could have changed it. First, Patricia was offered an opportunity to earn a master’s degree while working in Buffalo. I had to complete a 2-year program to earn a master’s degree required to become a permanently certified teacher in NY State. That action was to put in place a safety net should we return to NY in the future.
Patricia declined the job offer and I was able to finish my degree program as we prepared to depart.
How I procured a position to teach in Alaska was a remarkable series of events. While applying in Anchorage, at a distance and only on paper, I was told that the principal of a new school being built, a Mr. Matt Mattoon, would be traveling to a conference in Washington, DC, in February of 1970. I was invited to meet with him there for a live interview. I agreed.
The trip down was easy, a direct flight from Buffalo to Washington. The flight back was more difficult, requiring a small series of hops on a smaller Frontier Airlines plane. But it was to return me in time to meet my teaching obligation at Hamburg High School the following day.
I arrived via taxi at Matt Mattoon’s hotel about 4 PM with a planned interview at 5. I had very little money, just enough for a taxi to return to my pre-paid flight home that evening, departing at 8 PM.
I told the desk clerk what was happening. He called to Matt’s room, but no one answered. So, I waited.
The clerk called again in 30 minutes. No answer. No answer at 6 PM either, and I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t make it home. I had no dinner money, only enough in my wallet to pay for a return cab. The clerk, after repeated calls, offered me $20 for a hotel meal and then opened the room next door to Matt’s room. I watched my time closely and knew I would have to leave soon. Suddenly, I heard a toilet flush in the room next door! I immediately knocked on the door to find that Matt and his wife had just returned from dinner.
He was surprised to see me, and then…. Remembered.
Not only was he apologetic, but after about a ten-minute talk, he offered me the job!
I thanked him, rushed to the cab, and made my flight home.
Which was a challenge. We flew through an ice and snowstorm that developed as we flew into Midstate NY. Our plane had to hover over the Ithaca Airport as they cleared the runway of a plane landing before us which had slid off the runway. Patricia, waiting patiently at the Buffalo Airport, could find no Frontier Airline personnel to tell her what was happening. There was a long delay. When I arrived in the middle of the night, she was very relieved. We were exhausted but we were able to plow our way back to our home in South Buffalo, knowing that we would soon be moving to Alaska for a new life, a new job, and a new child.
Departing
The trip to Alaska was planned for late August, since I had to report to East Anchorage High School the first week of September. The school was double shifting, hosting the new teachers gathered to comprise the new faculty of Service-Hanshew Junior Senior High School, which would not be ready for occupancy before the spring of 1971.
To prepare, we sold off most large furniture, keeping a nice kitchen table and some other smaller pieces. We bought a new Dodge station wagon and added air shocks to it to handle the weight of our goods. My father, George, and I worked in his basement to build a simple box that fit within the roof rack, to hold many of our things. Fully loaded we looked like we belonged in a caravan with the sign “Alaska or Bust” on top. We scheduled to meet the Alaska ferry in Seattle on a date that allowed us about 10 days for travel across the country.
The first day I pushed us to drive from Buffalo to Wisconsin, a tad too far. Patricia’s mother, Helen, and dad, Rudy, gave us some extra cash, telling us to book good hotels and not scrimp. Enjoy part of the trip and call them every other night along the way was their message. Once we hit Wisconsin, we looked at each other and decided to slow it down a bit. We changed our itinerary to book hotels we could reach by dinner time each day, looking for lodging with a pool since it was August and still warm.
We had some very nice hotel stays and, when we reached Montana, we did a side trip to Yellowstone for a day and night. This was remarkable. We had two bear encounters. The first was a mama bear and three cubs. They crossed the road in front of a line of traffic and the three cubs went up a small tree. As they swayed near the top, mama stood guard at the foot of the tree, watching the gathering of tourists. As we watched, a foolish father hoisted his son on his shoulders, took out his trusty 8 MM movie camera, and proceeded to walk toward mama and the three bear cubs. Fortunately, others convinced him to stop before mama acted, and there was no bad ending to that story.
The next very early morning we left our lodging on the west of the park to head out. We soon encountered an old lumbering brown bear ambling along the roadside, just off the road. I slowed and told Patricia to roll down her window and catch a picture. She did so. Later, we reviewed her film to find that she had captured the back half of the bear before she quickly retreated to the car and rolled up the window.
We arrived in Seattle to have lunch with my grandfather’ cousin, Bert Kennedy. He and his wife Mary were most gracious and introduced us to their son, David Kennedy, who was newly married. By coincidence, he and his new wife Judy were taking the same ferry north so they could do white water rafting on the Yukon River as their honeymoon experience. We enjoyed several lunches with smoked salmon and wine with them before we parted ways. On the trip we learned that David was a professor at Stanford University, Later in life we learned that David was a famous author of history whose first book, from his dissertation, was about Margaret Sanger’s advocacy for birth control. He lost his wife to early onset Alzheimer’s disease, unfortunately.
We then loaded our car on an Alaskan ferry for a three-day trip up the panhandle region of Alaska. Our ferry trip brings several vivid memories. First in Patricia’s memory was the food. On board the ship one could purchase a King Crab Louie salad. This consisted of a large bed of greens with fresh cut tomatoes and lemon wedges and large pieces of fresh king crab meat. It cost $3.95. Patricia ate it for every meal!
I, however, did a side trip to a couple of hot dogs. When we hit the one patch of rough water on the Inland Passage, I had secured a birth for Patricia who was several months pregnant. Worried about her, I had requested and been given a few packets of crackers. She laid down in the stateroom just outside the purser’s office, and I worried about her getting sick.
She was fine. My hotdogs were not.
We exited at Haines and drove north on a very scenic and rough road to join the Alaska Highway in Canada at Haines Junction. There we stayed overnight in a rustic lodge where, to hear Patricia tell it, the women looked tough enough to “Stomp out rattlesnakes with their bare feet” although no snakes existed that far north. It was the image of women in plaid shirts and hiking boots that contrasted with my wife’s nylons and skirts.
We left Canada the next morning and crossed into Alaska in time to arrive at my old high school, Copper Valley School. Sr Mary Ida was the much beloved nun/cook when I attended in 1963, and she was still at the stove when we stopped in. She promptly invited us to enjoy lunch with the summer crew of nuns ands volunteers. When told that the fare would be a delicacy, moose liver, Patricia turned slightly green and said no thank you.
We then had hamburgers at a Glennallen stop. They were probably moose burgers, but who would know?
We thoroughly enjoyed the scenery as we drove the long 189 miles from Glennallen to Anchorage.
We arrived in Anchorage very late and found the only place open for a meal was a bar on 4th Avenue. Not knowing the reputation of that area, we plopped down on barstools at a counter and ordered hamburgers. While these looked to fill us, it was only shortly after our food was delivered that a very tipsy Native sat next to us and ordered a plate of food too. Before his food arrived, he passed out on his hamburger and proceeded to drool.
We had arrived.
I graduated in 1968 and became engaged to Patricia about that same time. We married in April of 1969 after It was discussed that we would work to gather a nest egg before departing to Alaska. Of course, that was a plan, and there were any number of events that could have changed it. First, Patricia was offered an opportunity to earn a master’s degree while working in Buffalo. I had to complete a 2-year program to earn a master’s degree required to become a permanently certified teacher in NY State. That action was to put in place a safety net should we return to NY in the future.
Patricia declined the job offer and I was able to finish my degree program as we prepared to depart.
How I procured a position to teach in Alaska was a remarkable series of events. While applying in Anchorage, at a distance and only on paper, I was told that the principal of a new school being built, a Mr. Matt Mattoon, would be traveling to a conference in Washington, DC, in February of 1970. I was invited to meet with him there for a live interview. I agreed.
The trip down was easy, a direct flight from Buffalo to Washington. The flight back was more difficult, requiring a small series of hops on a smaller Frontier Airlines plane. But it was to return me in time to meet my teaching obligation at Hamburg High School the following day.
I arrived via taxi at Matt Mattoon’s hotel about 4 PM with a planned interview at 5. I had very little money, just enough for a taxi to return to my pre-paid flight home that evening, departing at 8 PM.
I told the desk clerk what was happening. He called to Matt’s room, but no one answered. So, I waited.
The clerk called again in 30 minutes. No answer. No answer at 6 PM either, and I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t make it home. I had no dinner money, only enough in my wallet to pay for a return cab. The clerk, after repeated calls, offered me $20 for a hotel meal and then opened the room next door to Matt’s room. I watched my time closely and knew I would have to leave soon. Suddenly, I heard a toilet flush in the room next door! I immediately knocked on the door to find that Matt and his wife had just returned from dinner.
He was surprised to see me, and then…. Remembered.
Not only was he apologetic, but after about a ten-minute talk, he offered me the job!
I thanked him, rushed to the cab, and made my flight home.
Which was a challenge. We flew through an ice and snowstorm that developed as we flew into Midstate NY. Our plane had to hover over the Ithaca Airport as they cleared the runway of a plane landing before us which had slid off the runway. Patricia, waiting patiently at the Buffalo Airport, could find no Frontier Airline personnel to tell her what was happening. There was a long delay. When I arrived in the middle of the night, she was very relieved. We were exhausted but we were able to plow our way back to our home in South Buffalo, knowing that we would soon be moving to Alaska for a new life, a new job, and a new child.
Departing
The trip to Alaska was planned for late August, since I had to report to East Anchorage High School the first week of September. The school was double shifting, hosting the new teachers gathered to comprise the new faculty of Service-Hanshew Junior Senior High School, which would not be ready for occupancy before the spring of 1971.
To prepare, we sold off most large furniture, keeping a nice kitchen table and some other smaller pieces. We bought a new Dodge station wagon and added air shocks to it to handle the weight of our goods. My father, George, and I worked in his basement to build a simple box that fit within the roof rack, to hold many of our things. Fully loaded we looked like we belonged in a caravan with the sign “Alaska or Bust” on top. We scheduled to meet the Alaska ferry in Seattle on a date that allowed us about 10 days for travel across the country.
The first day I pushed us to drive from Buffalo to Wisconsin, a tad too far. Patricia’s mother, Helen, and dad, Rudy, gave us some extra cash, telling us to book good hotels and not scrimp. Enjoy part of the trip and call them every other night along the way was their message. Once we hit Wisconsin, we looked at each other and decided to slow it down a bit. We changed our itinerary to book hotels we could reach by dinner time each day, looking for lodging with a pool since it was August and still warm.
We had some very nice hotel stays and, when we reached Montana, we did a side trip to Yellowstone for a day and night. This was remarkable. We had two bear encounters. The first was a mama bear and three cubs. They crossed the road in front of a line of traffic and the three cubs went up a small tree. As they swayed near the top, mama stood guard at the foot of the tree, watching the gathering of tourists. As we watched, a foolish father hoisted his son on his shoulders, took out his trusty 8 MM movie camera, and proceeded to walk toward mama and the three bear cubs. Fortunately, others convinced him to stop before mama acted, and there was no bad ending to that story.
The next very early morning we left our lodging on the west of the park to head out. We soon encountered an old lumbering brown bear ambling along the roadside, just off the road. I slowed and told Patricia to roll down her window and catch a picture. She did so. Later, we reviewed her film to find that she had captured the back half of the bear before she quickly retreated to the car and rolled up the window.
We arrived in Seattle to have lunch with my grandfather’ cousin, Bert Kennedy. He and his wife Mary were most gracious and introduced us to their son, David Kennedy, who was newly married. By coincidence, he and his new wife Judy were taking the same ferry north so they could do white water rafting on the Yukon River as their honeymoon experience. We enjoyed several lunches with smoked salmon and wine with them before we parted ways. On the trip we learned that David was a professor at Stanford University, Later in life we learned that David was a famous author of history whose first book, from his dissertation, was about Margaret Sanger’s advocacy for birth control. He lost his wife to early onset Alzheimer’s disease, unfortunately.
We then loaded our car on an Alaskan ferry for a three-day trip up the panhandle region of Alaska. Our ferry trip brings several vivid memories. First in Patricia’s memory was the food. On board the ship one could purchase a King Crab Louie salad. This consisted of a large bed of greens with fresh cut tomatoes and lemon wedges and large pieces of fresh king crab meat. It cost $3.95. Patricia ate it for every meal!
I, however, did a side trip to a couple of hot dogs. When we hit the one patch of rough water on the Inland Passage, I had secured a birth for Patricia who was several months pregnant. Worried about her, I had requested and been given a few packets of crackers. She laid down in the stateroom just outside the purser’s office, and I worried about her getting sick.
She was fine. My hotdogs were not.
We exited at Haines and drove north on a very scenic and rough road to join the Alaska Highway in Canada at Haines Junction. There we stayed overnight in a rustic lodge where, to hear Patricia tell it, the women looked tough enough to “Stomp out rattlesnakes with their bare feet” although no snakes existed that far north. It was the image of women in plaid shirts and hiking boots that contrasted with my wife’s nylons and skirts.
We left Canada the next morning and crossed into Alaska in time to arrive at my old high school, Copper Valley School. Sr Mary Ida was the much beloved nun/cook when I attended in 1963, and she was still at the stove when we stopped in. She promptly invited us to enjoy lunch with the summer crew of nuns ands volunteers. When told that the fare would be a delicacy, moose liver, Patricia turned slightly green and said no thank you.
We then had hamburgers at a Glennallen stop. They were probably moose burgers, but who would know?
We thoroughly enjoyed the scenery as we drove the long 189 miles from Glennallen to Anchorage.
We arrived in Anchorage very late and found the only place open for a meal was a bar on 4th Avenue. Not knowing the reputation of that area, we plopped down on barstools at a counter and ordered hamburgers. While these looked to fill us, it was only shortly after our food was delivered that a very tipsy Native sat next to us and ordered a plate of food too. Before his food arrived, he passed out on his hamburger and proceeded to drool.
We had arrived.