THE ELDERS OF WAINWRIGHT SPEAK / DAD’S MAIL RUNS HERE IN THE EARLY 1950’S

Bertrand and I were fortunate enough to be working in the clinic in Wainwright during the week the community was celebrating having incorporated 50 years ago in 1962.  Everyone was invited to events taking place each night.  It was the first gathering for many months following whaling and fishing seasons--many had recently returned from fish camps and seemed to enjoy being together as a large group again.

On the first night, the Mayor of Wainwright spoke and then introduced representatives of the Mayor of the North Slope Borough and of the Governor of the State of Alaska who both congratulated the citizens of Wainwright on their having incorporated and on the progress they’d made in creating their community government over the years. 

The Wainwright Mayor next invited elders to talk about the history of the village.  They each shared stories about growing up there, remembering when they didn’t have electricity and talking about life having been much more difficult.   It was interesting that a common phrase through all of their talks was, “Life was good then.”  They repeated with emphasis, “Life was good!  Life was good!” Several went on to express that life is very good now too and how grateful they are to God and to the United States for the freedoms they enjoy and for being able in many ways, to determine their own futures.  One elder said, “We have everything now.  You flip on a switch and the light goes on.  We are not cold in our houses.  Many of us have good jobs.  We have food to eat.” 

One of the elders talked about how far they’d come.  He said that many years ago, mail was delivered by dog sled and then later small planes would land on the sea ice once a week with the mail.  I thought of my dad, Don Peterson, who at 22 was flying bush planes out of Barrow to the villages.  He was one of the pilots this elder was talking about.  When I shared with Dad that I was coming to Wainwright, he asked if I’d find out if Waldo Bodfish was still living there.  He said that when he landed on the ice, Waldo would coming running down with an outgoing mail bag to give to him in exchange for the one Dad had brought.  He said that Waldo might not remember him, but he was the young pilot who landed off the end of the ice when using a Cessna 195.  The engine was too powerful for the length of ice he was landing on.  Dad was glad when he was able to go back to using a 170. 

Before leaving Barrow I discovered a book written by Waldo Bodfish, Sr. called Kusiq and later learned that it was the man Dad had known.  During the week-long celebration I met some of Waldo Sr.’s children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.  He passed away in 1992 at the age of 91.  Some said that they remembered Aapa (Inupiaq term for grandpa) mentioning Dad’s name over the years and were excited to hear that Dad had asked me to find out about him.  One of his granddaughters, Elsie, passed the book around for everyone to sign for Dad, telling them in Inupiat who I was and about Dad.  She was very animated and said that she wished that I had gotten up in front of the crowd and shared Dad’s story as he was a part of the history of Wainwright.  The thought had crossed my mind, but so had a fear of impromptu public speaking and of not knowing if it would be appropriate for an outsider to walk to the front to share.  They invited me to sit with them and I was able to take their photographs for Dad.  I enjoyed talking with them over the next several nights before leaving Wainwright and when I won an XXL Carhartt jacket as a door prize, I gave it to Elsie for her brother. 

I arrived early on one of the nights and talked with an elder named Billy Nashoalook.  He said that his father had been the post master in this part of Alaska many years ago and at the age of 14 began writing down details of his work and life in a dairy, journaling every day.  Years later, the journal was found and is now in a museum in California.  Billy, like all of the elders, had a delightful sense of humor.  I enjoyed talking with him individually very much and was surprised when he and the other elders who spoke to us all might spontaneously sing part of a popular song from past eras, making the crowds laugh.    

All of the elders who spoke at different times during the celebration encouraged parents to bring their children up with values and to teach them respect for themselves and others.  The events were held in the school’s gymnasium and many children could be seen and heard running here and there.  Several of the elders expressed disappointment in parents who didn’t restrain their children saying, “I would never have let my children run around like yours are.  Please teach your children to sit with you and to respect others when they’re speaking.”  Several parents caught up with their children and brought them back to sit down with them, although this didn’t last a terribly long time. 

Each elder spoke with passion about the importance of education and encouraged the young people in the community to attend college and to take advantage of grants and various programs that helped with tuition.  “Make something of yourselves!  Don’t stay home and do nothing!  Don’t get involved in alcohol and drugs.  Get out there and go after what your dreams are!” they asserted.  They were as moving as any motivational talk I’d ever heard, maybe because they seemed to be coming straight from their hearts.

On several nights there were potlucks with large kettles of caribou soup, pans of fried walrus and whale meat along with chicken, vegetables and fruit.  On all nights there were sing alongs of hymns and Christmas carols and on one night, a slide show of photos from the past was enjoyed by all of the residents.  Occasionally the moderator asked for people to call out, identifying if they knew who was in a photograph.