I live and write on Lingít Aaní, and gratefully acknowledge the past, present and future caretakers of this beautiful place, the Jilkaat Kwaan and Jilkoot Kwaan.
At about 11:30 on Boxing Day there was a loud crash. Chip was washing dishes and I was talking on the phone to my sister and we all thought Papa Bob had fallen upstairs until Chip yelled “chickens!”- A hen had flown into the window and the flock was...
The last sunrise of 2020 seems to be saying forgive me, be grateful. Have hope. Papa Bob is getting his Covid vaccine at noon today. Is that not perfect? I’m looking forward to a family Zoom tonight with my five children to ring out the old and ring in the new...
There is a rule when writing an obituary, or any news story really, not to raise more questions than you have answers for. I apologize for breaking it yesterday. (Albeit in a pretty benign way…but still.) To answer your questions: My favorite Christmas story is...
… I finally checked in. After writing the obituaries for Jenae and David and then Phil, I just wanted to retreat into a kind of close and holy silence, the kind that I can feel this Christmastide. The town is tender. I can’t look at the wide, now white...
Sunday morning, on the darkest day of the year, we planned to sleep in, maybe even drink coffee in bed and listen to the radio and read. The sun (what little there is of it) wouldn’t be up until about nine. The weather was miserable, rain and snow and wind. At...
The other day a friend said, “we lost two weeks” she meant work, normal life, plans- and for some in Haines, everything. Jenae and David. Phil. Johnnie, and Hal now. And homes ( I think there are nine gone for sure, and maybe a few more that aren’t...
