Flying home, part 1: I see my Shadow in Barrow; Ethel Patkotak - Master of Indian and Indigenous Law; Little Alan; familiar faces on a jet airplane

Here I am in my town parka, still in Barrow, but leaving soon, walking under a street lamp that stands not over a street but a snowmachine trail. In one hand, I hold my laptop computer, in the other, my pocket camera, the very one that I took this picture with.

I took my big, pro, DSLR cameras to Barrow just in case something came up that I needed to photograph for professional reasons, but nothing did. I never removed those cameras from the bag. They were dead weight the whole trip.

I shot only the pocket camera.

I have already made it clear that I am not a wedding photographer and I do not shoot weddings for hire. Yet, a couple of years back, I did shoot the wedding of Quuniq Donavan to Ruby Aiken. Before I left Barrow, I stopped by for a short visit. 

Quuniq said the dog could be mean so he held him back as I went to the door.

Shortly before it was time for me to leave to catch the jet south, I was sitting at a desk that I hi-jacked in the North Slope Borough Mayor's office, doing a little work on my computer, when I heard a female voice. "I have your book. I paid an arm and a leg for it and I would like you to sign it." It was Ethel Patkotak, originally of Wainwright. It was after working hours, and everybody else had left.

I wondered how this could be. "How much did you pay for it?" I asked.

"$500," she answered.

No, I protested, this could not be, that is impossible!

So she explained. What she had done was to make a membership contribution at the $500 level to Barrow's public radio station, KBRW. Mayor Itta had contributed copies of the book to be given to those who donated at the $500 level.

I was blown away.

See the sash hanging on the wall behind her?

That is what Ethel wore with her cap and gown when she graduated with an advanced Law Degree from the University of Tulsa college of Law in December of 2008. She was an honor student and graduated with as a Master of Laws in American Indian and Indigenous Law. She is also an alumni of Northern Illinois University College of Law and Stanford University in California.

She is now working for the Borough as a Special Assitant to the Mayor, under the Direction of his Chief Administrative Officer, Harold Curran, an attorney. Her focus is largely on environmental and wildlife issues.

She also loves airplanes, just like I do.

Next I went back to Roy's place, to pick up my stuff, but before I left I dropped in next door to say goodbye to Savik, Myrna and all present. That included Little Alan, who you met two posts ago, playing a computer game as he sits with his mother, Shareen.

When I got on the plane, I did not know where to sit. The seat assignment was listed on my boarding pass, all right, but was hardly legible. It looked like it read, "1c," but I knew that couldn't be right, as that was in first class and I did not have a first class ticket.

So I showed it to the Stewardess. "It looks like 1c to me," she said. So I got to ride in First Class at coach rate. All I can figure is that it must have been a weight and balance issue, that they needed more people in first class than just those who paid for the luxory.

The blonde sitting by the window reading is author Debby Edwardson, who has lived in Barrow all of her adult life. Her most recent book is the novel Blessing's Bead, published by Farrar Straus and Gireoux, 2009. I am embarrassed to say that I have not yet read it, but I will, not only because Debby wrote it, but because it is a Barrow book and it has been well-reviewed.

She also authored the illustrated children's book, Whale Snow. She is married to George Edwardson, an Iñupiaq man who has taken on the oil companies in a fight to keep them out of the home of the bowhead whale.

Sitting behind her to the right is Rachel Riley, of Anaktuvuk Pass. Rachel was in the Barrow High Gymnasium on June 12, 2008, when I took my foolish fall and shattered my shoulder. So she was a witness to that event. When I first met her over a quarter a century ago, her house had caught fire. It had burned enough to be a total loss, but not to fall down.

Tom Opie was then the Chief of the North Slope Borough Fire Department, so he flew down to Anaktuvuk Pass to train local volunteer fire fighters. Several times, they set Rachel's house back on fire, and then went in and put the flames out all over again.

I got to put on a firefighter's outfit and oxygen mask and crawl into the burning house on my belly under the smoke with them. It was only a drill, but it was tough. It increased my respect for firefighters.

The lady sitting by the window behind her is Mary Sage, who is an excellent Eskimo dancer and a good photographer. She has had several photos published in the Anchorage Daily News. Sometimes, when I have had a photo I have needed to get identified I have contacted her on Facebook and she has helped me out.

I am embarrassed that the name of the lady sitting next to slips my mind. This is happening to me more and more.

As to the idenity of the man scratching his head, I haven't the slightest idea who he is.

This is how it is in Alaska when you board a jet plane. There will be strangers on board, but there are always many familiar faces.

Alaska is the biggest small town in the USA - perhaps the world.

And the Stewardesses are friendly - especially when you unexpectedly wind up in First Class. 

Shortly after this, I got what I believe to be a pretty neat series of pictures that I took while sitting in First Class, but it is late and I need to go to bed.

I will try to make a second post after I get up, before I drive into Anchorage to pay a visit to Little Kalib, his fish, his dad and mom - who, I am happy to say, has not yet had to go to the delivery room although she continues to experience low-level contractions.

Lisa and I are thinking about taking in a movie and Melanie has invited me to eat at a new Indian Restaurant, which actually serves South India food as well as North, and I believe Rex and Charlie will be there, too. So we will dine, and as we do, we will think of Southern India, of Soundarya and Anil, Sujitha, Ganesh, Buddy, Murthy, Vasanthi, Vivek, Khena, Vijay, Vidya and all the other members of our Indian family. I hear that the food is excellent and I do not doubt it. Yet, I do not think it will be quite so good as that prepared by Vasanthi, for Melanie and me.

I do not know what Caleb will do.

As for Margie, she remains in Arizona, completely snowed under by a series of huge storms that have dumped over four feet upon her sister's house in the White Mountains. They lost all power and for a full day I could not contact her by phone, because their cell service was gone, too.

Every time I tell someone that Margie is in Arizona, they say something like, "Oh! I'll bet she's really enjoying the sun and warm weather."