Alaska-versary, Kind Of
Ten year ago this month I moved to Alaska. I overnighted in a hotel in Seattle (paid for by my new employer) and experienced my first milk run on Alaska Air - stopping in Ketchikan and Wrangell before landing in Petersburg (I was moving to Wrangell, but the paper’s owner/publisher lived in Petersburg and I guess he wanted to give me a proper welcome, which is actually very kind when I think about it in hindsight). I’ll never forget being so excited on that plane ride and telling a flight attendant that it was my first time in Alaska, that I was moving to the state. Another passenger heard me. He got up to shake my hand and said, “Let me the first one to officially welcome you to Wrangell.” That was Ottie Florschutz, one of the many open-hearted, kind people I would meet in that town.
In Petersburg, I ate my first Alaska halibut (smothered in mayonnaise and baked - I was shocked by the mayonnaise!), met my first Alaska friend (who’s still a friend today), and had my first Alaska hangover. And when my brief time in Petersburg (was it only 24 hours?) ended, I boarded my first Alaska ferry. All these “firsts” would continue for a few years. Everything awed me. Even the rain.
What I don’t recall from those early days is any kind of fear or hesitation.
When I arrived in Wrangell, I stayed with a coworker at the paper, Kris Reed, and her family for a few days before I rented my first apartment on the pseudo basement level of a triplex (okay, I guess it was the basement level).
Kris and her husband Dan are on the ferry right now on their way to Juneau to sell art at the public market this weekend. I’m excited to see them. During my whole time in Wrangell, even when I left the paper, they remained dear, supportive friends.
A Juneau friend suggested this morning that it was my 10-year Alaska-versary. I don’t know if I quite deserve that yet since Scott and I left the state for three years. She said it could still count because my heart was undoubtedly still in Alaska. And it’s true. It was. When we left Wrangell by ferry in December 2009 with all of our stuff, we didn't know if we’d ever return. But when the time came to return, no other place was even considered.
We moved to Juneau in January 2013, which means we’re nearing the completion of our third year in Juneau. Almost since day one here, I’ve lamented having no real friends, missing our good ones in Wrangell. In fact, for this Thanksgiving, that’s where I wanted to be, in the comforts of a small community. But, because of a series of events, we’re not going to be there. We’re staying in Juneau and hosting the holiday in our home. When I sent out the email invite a few weeks ago to four other couples, I was so afraid of rejection. Instead, all I got was acceptance.
Happy Thanksgiving.
In Petersburg, I ate my first Alaska halibut (smothered in mayonnaise and baked - I was shocked by the mayonnaise!), met my first Alaska friend (who’s still a friend today), and had my first Alaska hangover. And when my brief time in Petersburg (was it only 24 hours?) ended, I boarded my first Alaska ferry. All these “firsts” would continue for a few years. Everything awed me. Even the rain.
What I don’t recall from those early days is any kind of fear or hesitation.
When I arrived in Wrangell, I stayed with a coworker at the paper, Kris Reed, and her family for a few days before I rented my first apartment on the pseudo basement level of a triplex (okay, I guess it was the basement level).
Kris and her husband Dan are on the ferry right now on their way to Juneau to sell art at the public market this weekend. I’m excited to see them. During my whole time in Wrangell, even when I left the paper, they remained dear, supportive friends.
A Juneau friend suggested this morning that it was my 10-year Alaska-versary. I don’t know if I quite deserve that yet since Scott and I left the state for three years. She said it could still count because my heart was undoubtedly still in Alaska. And it’s true. It was. When we left Wrangell by ferry in December 2009 with all of our stuff, we didn't know if we’d ever return. But when the time came to return, no other place was even considered.
We moved to Juneau in January 2013, which means we’re nearing the completion of our third year in Juneau. Almost since day one here, I’ve lamented having no real friends, missing our good ones in Wrangell. In fact, for this Thanksgiving, that’s where I wanted to be, in the comforts of a small community. But, because of a series of events, we’re not going to be there. We’re staying in Juneau and hosting the holiday in our home. When I sent out the email invite a few weeks ago to four other couples, I was so afraid of rejection. Instead, all I got was acceptance.
Happy Thanksgiving.
posted by Siapiau | 10:30 AM
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