Let the little girl dance

The little girl stands inside the circle, waiting for the hand that will soon pull her back into the fiddle dance.

Surely, that hand will come soon - won't it?

It looks like it's coming... or is it reaching for someone else?

This time, it must surely be coming for her...

Yes, it is! The little girl is back in the dance! But won't she get too hot, wearing that jacket while dancing with such vigor and energy?

Yes, but it is a simple thing to remove a jacket.

And then she takes a run into the cool midnight-air outside.

She is back. She is in the dance and she is smiling.

I did ask her name afterward and she did tell me - but her voice was soft and shy and the music and laughter was loud. I could not quite make it out.

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Update: Eliza Hutchinson, a former school teacher in Fort Yukon who returned for the gathering, has identified the little girl as sweet Patience Tackett, one of her former students. 

Slide show: Fiddle dancing, Gwich'in style

When Harold Frost was about six years old, his grandfather came to his family house in Old Crow, Yukon Territory, for a visit and brought his fiddle with him. When early trappers introduced the fiddle and the dances that go with it into the Yukon and Mackenzie River country of Alaska and the Yukon and Northwest Territories, the Gwich'in and their other Athabascan relatives picked up the instrument and made both their own. Harold's grandfather was a master of the instrument.

He took great care of his instrument and did not want to risk damage to it by having a child pick it up and have a mishap. So Harold's grandfather placed his fiddle near the bed and ordered all the children to stay far away from it and leave it alone.

It's not that Harold was a disobedient child, but that fiddle tempted him. "No! Grandpa said not to touch it," his sister warned him when she saw him reaching up for it.

Harold touched it anyway. He ran his fingers over the wood and along the strings. He loved the feel of it, he loved even just the little sounds that the touch of his fingers brought from the instrument. He loved it and he did no damage to it.

Harold got his first fiddle when he was about 11. Playing came natural to him. He did not know how to read a note of music, but it didn't matter because when he picked up the fiddle, the music flowed naturally from his heart through his fingers into and then out of instrument. Later, he would teach himself to read music.

Not many years later, Harold picked up another form of entertainment, one that comes in a bottle in the form of alcohol. He and the woman that he married would drink together, but when he was still in his early 20's, Harold could see the damage that alcohol abuse was bringing to people that he knew and loved.

So he talked to his wife and told her that he was not going to drink anymore. "I've been sober for 22 years now," Harold told me. His wife has stayed sober with him.

People who came to Fort Yukon - Gwichyaa Zhee - dance to the tune of Harold's fiddle, backed up up by guitars, base, drums and vocals. They are gathered at the tribal hall.

This time, perhaps, I have overdone it, for I have included 36 pictures in the slide show that readers can find either by clicking on the link below or on either of the above two photos. For those who were there, I don't think 36 will be too many, although I do worry that some might have long waits due to slow village internet connections if they wish to view them all.

For those who were not there, I hope 36 images is not too much and that you enjoy them anyway.

You will find jigs, square and other fun dances. To save me time, I have not tried to put things in order, but, with a couple of small exceptions, pretty much display them in the order that the computer dropped them into my slide show.

The final two images are of young people, leaving the dance late at night by four-wheeler and bicycle. In summertime Alaska, particularly as you go north, people, young and old alike, have a tendency to stay up nearly all night - especially when they get together for any kind of gathering, Gwich'in or otherwise.

Even with this many images, I plan to put up one more, shorter, fiddle dance picture story which I will title, "Let the Little Girl Dance." You will understand the title when you see it.

Click here or on photo to view the full slide show

Go to Harold's site to hear music samples

Slide show: traditional Gwich'in dance at the Gathering

Those who came to the Gwich'in Gathering in Fort Yukon - or Gwichyaa Zhee, as the community is known in Gwich'in - celebrated throughout the week with many different kinds of dances, from jigs, square, and other fiddle dances to rock and roll and even a bit of rap.

Yet, it was the original, traditional dances of the Gwich'in people in all their beauty and grace that the people chose to open their gathering, and to mark important moments throughout. Dancers came from Arctic Village, Venetie and Circle and in their invitationals were joined by everybody.

Over today and tomorrow, I will post multiple slide shows as I can complete them.

Click here or on the photo to view 27-image slide show

Yesterday, I spent a good four hours stuck in snail traffic, to and from Arctic Thunder air show. Still, there are some airplanes in this 27 image slide show

Click here for the full, 27-image, show

The reason Kalib looks so miserable is because he, his mom, his dad and I got stuck in traffic for two-and-half hours on the way to the Arctic Thunder air show staged yesterday at Elmendorf Air Force Base. For awhile, I had been thinking about taking in a bit of airshow with these three, then driving downtown to attend a wedding and then to come back, pick them up and then return today for the entire show, but I tell you, when you get stuck in traffic for two-and-half hours and then later for about 45 minutes and then after that for another hour all over again, you change your plans.

Still, we did get to see airplanes - both as we crawled along Boniface and at the air show, where we arrived in time to see the Blue Angels perform.

Now I am going to try a little experiment. This day is growing old and I did not post yesterday and I have already spent quite a bit of time making the slide show that goes with the spread, so I am going to skip my usual picture/narrative and instead invite readers to go directly to the 27 image slide show.

Here is a brief explanation of what you will find in the slideshow:

The above photo, followed by a scene of jammed up traffic ahead of us.

Two shots of a woman and boy walking, images that would be inconsequential, except that they show how much faster these two were traveling as pedestrians than we were traveling in the car.

A photo of jets climbing into the sky way beyond a street lamp. I took this through the windshield of the Escape. Jacob drove, to free me to just take pictures.

Some boys who play on a football team that had staged a car wash fundraiser along the route. They took advantage of the big bog-down in traffic to walk down the road between the lanes of traffic to seek contributions. We contributed.

Jets, taken from the car, flying behind leaves.

Two Mormon missionaries who came walking past and who agreed to pose for my Mormon missionary series. When I asked where they were from, one said Salt Lake City and the other said Utah. Before I could probe deeper, a gap of about 100 yards suddenly opened between us and the next car, so we had to dash forward and leave them behind.

After two-and-half hours, we finally arrived at the air show. Lavina bought Dilly Bars for everybody from the Dairy Queen booth. The roar of jets flying terrified Kalib. It looked like, after our big ordeal in traffic, we were just going to have to turn around and leave, but then Kalib calmed down and took courage, so we stayed.

Various and insundry scenes of jets flying and people watching - mostly the Blue Angels - as well as a young girl looking out the cockpit window of a C-130. Jacob tried to take Kalib into the same C-130 so he could look out the window, too, but Kalib refused to enter.

A memorial for four airmen killed last week in the crash of a C-17, the same kind of cargo plane as the one behind their photographs. 

As reported in the Anchorage Daily News, the airmen are: Maj. Michael Freyholtz, 34, and Maj. Aaron Malone, 36, both pilots assigned to the Alaska Air National Guard's 249th Airlift Squadron; Capt. Jeffrey Hill, 31, a pilot assigned to Elmendorf's 517th Airlift Squadron; and Senior Master Sgt. Thomas Cicardo, 47, a 249th Airlift Squadron loadmaster.

Kalib refusing to peek inside a helicopter.

A pilot, his jet and his dog.

Kalib dozing on the 45 minute slow-ride back to his house.

Jobe, who spent the day with his grandmother, who, fortunately, likes babies better than she does airplanes, reunited with his tired dad.

As I drove Margie back to Wasilla, we again got stuck in traffic for another hour - this time due to highway construction. After we had been alternating between a snails pace and no pace at all, this couple approached from behind us, riding on the shoulder. Then they spotted the police ahead, who can be seen in the distance on the right hand side of the photo pulling drivers over for doing this very thing, so the couple started to cut back into traffic directly in front of us when their engine died.

Slowly, as the driver sat there, trying to restart his bike, the gap widened between us the next car. Finally, I  carefully worked my way around them and continued on. Shortly after, the driver started his bike and moved back into traffic a few cars behind us.

I then forgot about them, until a ways after we had passed the police cars. Suddenly, they came roaring by on the right shoulder, she flipping the bird at motorists as they passed by.

Next year, if I am around at the right time, I will try to go to the air show early, stay all day and photograph it the way it should be photographed.

View the 27 image slide show

Now, for those who may have been at the Gwich'in Gathering and are eager to see more pictures, I will make a big effort to post several picture stories over the next two days. I think I will do it in slide format, with minimal comment, so that I can get more pictures up and you can see them, just as I promised you would be able to.

Sometimes, the daily flow of life simply overtakes me.

Paul Herbert, "Snook," cuts the fish he caught in his wheel - Part 2 of 2

The fish that Paul Herbert, "Snook" caught in his fishwheel have been put on the cutting table, directly in front of his smokehouse.

Snook has sharpened his knife. He feels the edge. It is smooth and sharp, ready to slice through salmon flesh.

Just as he learned to do as a boy while living with his grandmother, Belle Herbert, Snook cuts his fish. He works swiftly and expertly.

He fillets a salmon, leaving the two halves connected at the tail.

He cuts the end off at an angle, to create a shape that will facilitate the drying process.

Pushing down hard, Snook runs the knife over the cut fish in a way that will squeeze out the blood. Too much blood left behind could ruin the meat.

Snook makes angle cuts through the flesh at regular intervals. 

Each cut leaves a clean strip of white on the inside of the skin. This will allow the skin to stretch so that the segments of cut meat are separated through the drying and smoking process.

Applying considerable pressure, Snook runs the knife over the salmon skin to begin the stretching process.

He soaks the cut fish in brine for a spell.

After the fish soak, Snook places them on a rack where they will hang briefly.

As they hang, he stretches the skin some more. He wants to be certain that segments that he has cut do not come in contact with each other, as this could cause them to spoil.

After the fish hang for a spell on the outside rack, Snook transfers them into his smokehouse.

The fish that Paul has cut hang in the smoke.

Snook had been a little worried that the big red king might have been too far along on its spawning journey, but when he cut into it, he found that the flesh was still good. He will cut this one up into sections for freezing.

He places the cuts sections in a large bowl for washing.

His wife Alma washes the cut sections.

Snook had also cut salmon strips, which he will now transfer from the outside rack into the smokehouse. Yellow jacket hornets gather around, hoping to get a share.

Harold Frost who had come from Old Crow, Yukon Territory, to play his fiddle at the Gwich'in Gathering stops by. Alma gives him a box of salmon that she had jarred the day before to put in his boat and take home with him.

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