“See the two-story white house with the wide porch? That’s the Stephen Birch house. Painted it myself in 1916.”
“Stephen Birch left here just before the power plant went up in smoke. He was here for three days. Our manager, Bert Needing, uses the house, but he’s rarely here.” “We met Birch in McCarthy after you visited us. He said he’d look you up.” “That’s right. He did. He stopped by the shop. He said you’d be working at the Green Butte, but he never said anything about you coming up here.” “That must have been Frank’s doing, then.” “Frank is your friend, Johnny, whether you realize it or not. He was very concerned about you getting here. Very nice kid, that young engineer.” “Think he’ll be at the office?” “Probably. He’s usually upstairs in the map room, though I sometimes see him over at the construction job.” “Rumor is that the mines are on their last legs. Hard to believe, isn’t it?” “What? Your kidding ! This busy place on it’s last legs?” “Truth is, boys, as you’ve probably been told, so am I. This work is beginning to become too much for me. I’ll be forced to quit soon. No place to go to except Chitina. I’ve arranged to buy a cabin there so I can return in a few months. You two will soon be on your own if you stay on here.” Like almost every building on the property, the office was a barn-red with white trim. The front face was unusual because it was of log-construction. Inside the office was a payroll office counter with a teller window running to the ceiling. A young man at the desk greeted the two Natives and handed them the papers they needed to fill out. While Cap and Johnny were doing this, Frank walked down the stairs from the map room on the second level. It had already been a year since Johnny first met the engineer at Chitina. “So ! The long-awaited Indians finally arrive ! Great to see you again, Johnny. This must be Michael.” “Just call me Cap, like everyone else, ” Cap said extending his hand. “Did you have a good time in McCarthy?” “You’re the third person to ask that question today.” “We could have used you earlier, but your timing is still good. That was our big trainload today. We’ll probably be unloading it half the night. “How were things at Green Butte? I’m going over there to evaluate the copper sometime this season.” “Unless you see something we didn’t, it’s not worth the bother. We worked and worked at it, but we sure didn’t bag much copper. Nice place, though. Much more primitive than here, but friendly and comfortable. Even Cap seemed to like it.” “It was a good place. The men left us alone. Good cook. Mountains, rock-glacier, clean room. I like my room clean.” Cap responded. “We’ll have you a clean room here, too. Excellent food. It really is. The super prides himself in maintaining high standards for the men. He had an excellent head chef.” “Super?” “Superintendent Bill Douglass. Great man. He tries to keep everyone happy to be out here.” “What about the chef? Never heard of a chef out here.” “Well, actually he’s just a cook, but he could hold his own in any mining camp in the western United States. Japanese, too. All the cooks here are Japanese. So are the waiters. It’s the super’s policy. He likes to keep minorities working together, if he gets the right ones.” “Is that why he took Cap?” “Probably. I convinced him that doing so was consistent with his policy. Then I pointed out your work records. That settled it.” “That’s thoughtful of him considering you’re mining our hunting lands.” “Cap !” “Well, Johnny it seems awfully arrogant that it takes the company this long to consider hiring even two of us when they got this place for nothing.” “I can’t speak to that, Cap. I have to be careful what I say around here.” “That’s fine, mister Kennecott engineer. I just wanted you to know that we’re not here to take crumbs from the table. It’s still our place and always will be. We appreciate the work, but were not cigar-store Indians. We’re real. We’re tired of being overlooked in our own land.” “Cigar-store Indians?” “Cap means we’re not tokens. We’re people. My brother get’s a little upset about the white superiority attitudes, but we all do. He’s the one who always speaks out, though. Get’s us into fights once in awhile.” “You want to be careful about that around here. Douglass won’t like it.” Johnny decided to change the subject. Better to stay on the good side of his only sponsor. “This place is huge compared to Green Butte.” “Yes, we send more ore down our trams in a week than Green Butte processes all season.” “It shows. This place is unbelievable.” “It’s great, isn’t it? You two will be working on my project. Actually, it’s headed by chief engineer, Mr. Richelsen, but I’m on the team. We’re in quite a hurry to build the permanent power plant so we can resume normal operations before fall turns into winter.” “Where will you be placing us, Frank?” “Your quarters? Since you’re on the carpenter crew, you’ll be at the west barracks, just upstairs from Emil. He’s been here many years and has proved to be an exceptional employee. He’s well respected. He told us that both of you are top-notch workers. “Now we’ve handed you guys your chance to prove it. You’ll be on the job tomorrow. Maybe earlier, if the yard-crew foreman needs more bodies to unload the train. One final thing. No fighting. And, no alcohol or women for pleasure are allowed here. That’s what McCarthy’s for. Do your fighting, drinking and pleasuring down there, if you can ever get the time off. “Get a good rest, and eat well. The food is always good and sometimes even great. We buy only the best products. As I said, our Japanese cooks come highly recommended. But don’t let that scare you. Our food is as American as can be. We eat ranch-style here, just as they do over there at Green Butte. “Emil, you out there?” “Just out here waiting, Mr. Buckner.” Frank walked outside. Emil was sitting on the bench next to the sidewalk. “Emil, we have the paperwork and Bittner will hand our two new workers a room assignment in the top floor of the west barrack. You can show them around. Henry Jackson may need them later to help unload the train.” Frank turned and disappeared up the narrow stairwell. The two young men finished the paperwork. “You guys don’t need any help filling these out?” “We both can read Mr. . .” “Bittner. I’m John Bittner.” “Well I’m John Gadanski. This is Cap Goodlataw.” “I see it says Michael on the paper.” “My white man name. Call me Cap.” “Okay, Cap. You guys have room number 205.” “Number 205 is on the third floor? Shouldn’t it be three-something?” “First floor is the mess hall. Second and third are the rooms. Number 205 faces this way. You can see it from here. John Bittner walked around the desk and stepped outside.” “See that middle window on the top? That’s it. I know. I take care of all the housing arrangements here. Be sure to check in with the staff man in the basement for bedding.” “You live in one of the barracks?” “No. I brought up my wife, and I have two young ones living here. My wife has a cat, too. We’re in one of the bigger north cottages. That’s across from the power plant. You’re done here. Have a good day.” Emil was still sitting on the bench out in the sunlight, nearly out of breath. Johnny was alarmed, but said nothing. “I’d show you the job site, but the train is in the way. There’s no place to cross without jumping the couplings. I don’t want to do that. You can do that later without me along. The far end of the train is in front of the west barrack. We’ll walk in that direction first. “We have a room assignment. It’s 205.” “Let me see. Yes, that’s somewhere on the floor above me. The attic level. It’s hot up there this time of year.” “Bittner said we have a view of the mill. It’s one of those middle windows.” “You’ll probably have the room to yourself. There’ve never been any other Indians here. They like to put the same nationalities together. Seems to work better.” Johnny stood facing south. “What’s that big building in front, Dad?” “That’s the company store and warehouse. We’ll need to get you set up with some work clothes there, unless you have everything you need from Green Butte. Lot’s of railroad activity around that warehouse. Sometimes makes it noisy at night.” “It all looks good to me, Dad. The buildings are close together, but it has a neat appearance.” “Yes, there seems to be a general agreement on that. After I show you the room, we’ll walk up the other side of the tracks to my paint shop. We’ll stop at the store on the way. That’s as good a place to start as any.” The west barrack was on the track grade. A wide set of stairs led to the four feet to the vestibule. The entry also served as a landing for the wide stairs leading into the sleeping rooms and for the narrower stairs heading down into the locker and lavatory area. “Your room is two flights up, but the lavatory, showers, and locker room are one story down. Everything at Kennecott is like that. Up and down, I mean. The area is so steep and narrow, that the town was built on many levels. You’ll find yourself constantly climbing from one place to the next. Wears a man out. That’s just how it is.” The three men worked their way around the caboose and headed up the stairs. “We built this one in 1917. It contained many large windows spaced closely to allow for as much natural lighting as possible.” The over-all effect was that of a cheerful environment, enhanced by the light cream color of the wooden walls above the lower dark rich cherry wood wainscoting which ran up the first four feet on all the levels except the basement. “I smell food cooking. Cap, when was the last time either of us ate?” “Can’t remember, Sla’cheen. Too much party. Liquor. Women. Not much food.” “Wow, it’s big in here. How many men, Dad?” “We built it to seat 150. It gets crowed in here. No one’s here yet because the day shift is still working, but sometimes the cooks have extra food set out.” “There’s more than one shift?” “The mill, aerial tram and ammonia leach plant works ‘round the clock. So does the power plant. Usually there’s a night yard crew, too. We have very large freight trains unload around here. Then we take the empty train, especially the flats and gondolas and load ‘em up with bagged or broken ore. Lately that’s been done at night. Seems like there’s just not enough hours around here, busy at it is. Those night-shift men eat here, so this place is almost always open.” “Doesn’t hardly seem to me like this place is on it’s last legs to me, Dad.” “So it would appear, Son. I’ve never seen it as busy as it is right now. At least, not since they found the Big Stope up in the Jumbo in 1916. We just keep going and going . . .” “What’s the Big Stope?” “They started running the Jumbo aerial tram nine years ago. The next season they struck the biggest or richest piece of copper ore ever. So I heard. I guess it was thousands of feet long and hundreds of feet high. That’s long since cleaned out. Heard the Big Stope alone paid off the railroad.”
Emil led his two boys to the top attic level. Their assigned room had two bunks. None of the beds had linen or blankets. The two took the lower beds,dropping their gear off on the thin mattresses. “Potlatch blankets?” “We take them with us everywhere we go, Dad. They’re real lifesavers.” “You don’t need to use those. We’ll get you some bedding from the basement. You get two blankets each, a set of sheets and a pillow. They come in once a week and change the sheets.” “Sheets? We have sheets here?” “Not only that, but a maid service. We also have showers and flush-toilets. Welcome to civilization, boys.” Cap went over to push open the sliding window. “We won’t need those blankets tonight. It’s too hot in here.” He leaned outside. A cool breeze was coming off the glacier. Cap found himself looking straight down on a cold storage plant. It was sandwiched in between the tall barrack and the company store. The men could see over the roof of the company store to the glacier on the left and staff row to the right. “It’s also noisy out here. That sound of the cars being shuffled around is loud.” “No different than it was being on the line crew,” Johnny reminded Cap. “The closeness of these buildings seems to make it noisier. The sounds seem to echo up here.” Cap replied. “You’re lucky you got the cool side. The south side is really hot. Let me show you the shop. It’s next to the company store. We’ll stop there first to pick you up some work clothes. You’ll need gloves and heavy coats for night work.” “No money? We pay with script. You haven’t any yet, because you haven’t worked here, but you can use some of mine. We’ve got to get you properly set up. Do you have good gloves and heavy coats?” After picking up what they needed, the men headed next door to the shop. The two found a well-maintained shop with several men busy at their work. A number of them expressed surprise in their eyes upon seeing that the new men were Native, but the carpenters were too engaged in their work to show more than a precursory interest. “Follow me to the stairs.” A steep, dark, and narrow stairwell led into a large, dimly lit area below. “Some of the paint is kept here. The rest is in another storage room. I set up my work tools on the bench and wall. There’s been precious little painting this year. I’ve been mostly doing carpentry work. There’ve been two jobs this year. One is the new barracks at Erie. It’s still unfinished. Once the power plant burned down, we haven’t been back up there. I don’t think they’re even running that camp right now. “The other job was the temporary shed for the generators. Now we’re ready to build a very large, permanent structure. There’ll be plenty of paint work, inside and out. Most of the building material we needed arrived on the last train--your train.” “If you stick around long enough, they’ll probably want you to help finish that Erie barracks. Right now there’s plenty to do right here. That new power plant’s going to be as large inside as a three-ring circus.” “Never seen one of them, Dad.” “Oh, sorry. I forgot. It’ll be larger than this building or even the company store. “Let’s get back to the mess hall and see what we can do about feeding you before Friendly Henry comes looking for you.” “Friendly Henry?” “Real nice guy, but demanding. He’s the yard crew boss. No doubt he’ll be looking for you once supper is over. That’s a big train to unload out there. I’m supervising the unloading of some of the wood. It has to be placed in the right order.” The three emerged from the lower level. “The carpenter shop is our oldest building. It was the original sawmill and it housed the first generator here. It started as a simple but large sawmill on skids, hauled up the river the hard way in 1906. They landed it in Valdez and brought it over Marshall Pass and down the Tasnuna River. What a job. Had to have it, though.The original sawmill still sits in the basement level. We use it for producing timbers.” “That was before you even worked on the railroad, wasn’t it?” “Yes. I was still at Dan Creek trying to get rich. Your mother left me that year. Can’t say I blame her. Didn’t then. Don’t now. “The sawmill is always the first structure to go up in any Alaskan wilderness camp, if you don’t count the mess tent. This building doesn’t have as many windows as the newer ones. It’s very dark inside, even on the main level.” Cap and Johnny were relieved to be out of the lower level, which smelled of paint fumes and was entirely too dark to suit them. The Japanese waiters were on hand to serve dinner to the men on a lunch line as the workers began to filter in. Emil, Johnny and Cap were among the first. They found generous portions of baked chicken, rice, rolls , string beans and an assortment of desserts at the serving line. Some of the men coming in looked at the Indians with surprise, and others with curiosity. No one appeared to be hostile. “It’s obvious that we’re the first of our kind here,” Cap quietly told Johnny. “I can see that this will take some adjusting, Cap. I just hope we can go about our jobs in peace.” “Don’t worry too much about that, ” Emil told the two. “Many of these men are immigrants, like me. Most aren’t even citizens. Some of them are taking citizenship classes in the school. They’ve never seen anyone who looks like you, but they’re all working men. The troublemakers are quickly kicked out of camp anyway. If anyone starts any trouble, make sure it’s obvious that it’s them and not you. Don’t you start anything here, and things should be fine.” “We got along fine with the others at Green Butte, and almost as well at McCarthy, if you ignore a bar fight or two.” “Or more,” Cap added. “Boys, I didn’t work in all these rough places in this valley acting like a complete gentleman. I was entirely too hot headed when I was your age, so I know how that goes. But this is different because you have a friend who leaned over backwards to get you here. You don’t want to let Frank down. Besides, you’re hopelessly outnumbered here. “Most of these men don’t understand you and never will. Many don’t care. Others may be hostile toward you. So do what you have to, but don’t call attention to yourselves. I’ll back you up where I can, of course. Even in my weakened state the men here don’t mess with me. I still carry my old reputation of being a nasty fighter who doesn’t know when to give up, just like you two. “Speak of the devil, there’s Henry coming this way.” “Guys, I’ve heard about you already. I’m Henry Jackson, one of the yard bosses. You’ll be the first Indians I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with. I look forward to it. Glad to meet you both.” The three shook hands and Henry continued. “The men here are good workers and hold their own. We quickly weed out the others. We have no time for nonsense. “You’ll be on my crew for a few hours after dinner. We have thirty-five loaded flat cars plus six more box cars full of goods on the tracks waiting our attention. We need to have the whole works off the train so the night crew can load up the empty cars with ore. Every available man will be out there, including you two. The materials site is just north of the new power plant area. Emil, will you show them to the site? See you guys at seven.” Henry excused himself and headed for the serving line. “You know that guy, Dad?” “Henry has been here for two seasons. He seems pleasant enough. He always carries his own weight and then some. He doesn’t care what anyone looks like or where they come from as long as they work hard. Henry can outwork just about any man and he expects the same effort from his crew. But he seems to know how to motivate people. That’s how he got that foreman job. The yard crew work is tough, but after your mucking and railroad line work, this should be nothing.” “It would have been nice to have had a chance to rest on our first day in, Emil.” “Well, Cap, you and Johnny can work off your hang-overs just fine tonight. “I’m done here. Need to catch a nap. I’ll look for you a bit before seven. Be either in your room or down here. Got to get some rest now. Too tired and out of breath.” “Dad’s not in good shape. I’m glad I’m here now, but I think I should have been here sooner. He forgot to show us the linen room. I’ll have to ask Henry.” Henry was eating by himself. “Henry. How do we get our sheets and blankets.” “Mmph. Excuse me. You caught me chewing chicken. Have a seat.” He pointed to the empty space in front of him. “I’ll be just a few minutes. Then I’ll bring you down there myself. Hang on.” A few minutes later the three men were standing in a dark hallway downstairs. Henry knocked on the door at the end of the hall. An older Japanese man opened. Henry said a few words. The Japanese nodded, then entered the hallway. “He’ll pull what you need out of one of the rooms. While he’s doing that, let me show you the locker room. That’s where we keep our outer work clothes.” It wasn’t long before the two had returned to their room. “I think I’ll stick with my potlatch blanket. These blankets aren’t that good.” “Have to agree, Cap. Ours are much better and heavier. Not that we need that this time of year.” “It gets cold enough at night. Don’t forget that, Sla’cheen. “McCarthy is a place I could live without, but I liked Green Butte. I like working where I can see everything from above. It’s so high up there. This place is only a ridge away, but it has its own spirit. It’s an old spirit, but seems to be friendly.” “Never thought I’d hear you say you like a white man place, Cap. Strange. Now that I think of it, I don’t remember ever hearing any old Indian stories about this valley. It seems we were everywhere else in the country but here.”
“Sla’cheen, it’s like this place was meant to be what it is now. I don’t understand it. But this place is different from anything else around it. But there is also something else out there which is even older and maybe not so friendly. I think I heard it once. It sounded like a distant, hollow train whistle. Very ghostly. Strange.” The real train whistle blew. Johnny felt like a little kid as he got up from the bunkbed to look out the dormer window. He watched the two passenger cars being pushed to the front of the train. The engine was now facing south. “That sound?” “That sound, but hollow and spirit-like. It might have come from one of these trains, but it seemed more like a ghostly mock-whistle than the real thing. An imitator.” “The engine’s facing the other way, Cap. Where’d they turn that thing around?” “Must have gone back to McCarthy to use the turntable. What a long round-trip just to turn it around.” Just then Emil knocked and entered the room. He led them outside, heading north toward the power plant. The unloading process had already begun in front of the temporary plant. “Time to join Henry out there. You’ve a lot of work ahead of you.” They followed the line of freight cars, which stretched beyond the ore loading bin at the base of the mill to the very end of the track. The temperature had started to cool. The breeze coming from the north that followed along the top of the glacier had picked up. The sun was shining brightly on upper parts of craggy Bonanza Ridge as it prepared to set for the evening. “Castle Rock,” Emil said. “Sure looks like the ruins of one. It looks rugged up there.” “Very rugged, very steep, Cap. That’s sheep country, but the mines are there as well. Jumbo’s at the base of that rock. See the flat spot? That’s a rock glacier. The camp’s built on it. We had to cable the buildings into place so they don’t move too far. “We’re here. This is the job site. Henry’s over there. I’m going to supervise the unloading of one of the flat cars. Henry will be your boss here. See you guys at breakfast tomorrow.” Henry was large, tall, youthful, and pleasant appearing. He seemed to have a perpetual smile on his face. He was in his mid-thirties, but appeared to be ten years younger. Most the newcomers found they liked working for Henry, even though the work was usually tough and demanding. “There you are, Johnny and Cap. You Chitina Indians will be working with me. on the same flatcars. We’ve got the corrugated iron to unload. Let’s get on with it and show the rest of the men how to work. &n You remembered both our names, and called us by name. That’s a good start. I think I’ll like working with you. “And, if I forgot to say so earlier, welcome to your first job in the greatest place in the territory to work.” We’ll know soon enough. Let’s see how the rest of you treat us. You let us in the door. Let’s see what happens next.
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15 December 2010
Ch 26, Pt 3, conclusion: "Arrival at Kennecott
Ch 26, Pt 2: "Arrival at Kennecott
“Whatever happened to all those old saddle tanks? We haven’t seen any of them in years.”
“The dinkies? Most of those original construction-era saddle tanks were sold off and shipped out. Of the two still in the country, No. 4 is kept at the Cordova roundhouse. No. 3 was sold to the Alaska Anthracite Railroad near Katalla. That operation failed in 1922 and engine no. 3 now sits abandoned out in the tundra near the Bering River.” Now, 102 stood contentedly puffing steam, ready on a siding to the north to attach itself to the rear of this large consist once the train was fully positioned to begin its final push up the hill. The engineer sent out a loud series of blasts. “Time for you guys to board.” Mike extended his hand to the two men. “It’s been great meeting you. I learned something new. Good luck at Kennecott.” The long consist was still on level ground, but as the two engines began working the train north, the lead engine entered the first steep incline, and the train began the slow run for the remaining four and a half miles. The passengers had a good view of the deserted town of Blackburn, a small grouping of log structures including one large, abandoned, two-story log hotel. In the background, the rock covered glacier rose well above the abandoned structures. The train climbed another 600 feet. Those last four miles represented a greater rise in elevation than in the first 131 miles from Cordova to Chitina. This lofty view allowed a brief but magnificent panoramic glimpse of Kennicott Glacier from above. As the track approached Kennecott, however, the elevation of the glacier began to exceed that of the railbed. By the time the train reached Kennecott, the glacier towered over the train.
The train passed a quarantine area used to isolate passengers during the Spanish Flu epidemic. That practice was finally abandoned by the early 1920s. Just beyond, the dairy barn marked the beginning of Kennecott. Just beyond, the rails passed the five-plex apartments and a number of cottages--all built along a steep hillside across from the glacier. There were more cottages along the glacial moraine on the right, centering on the recreation hall. Beyond those cottages was a series of freight yards for coal, wood and oil drums. At the end of the large storage area was the three-story west barrack, which towered over a small schoolhouse and an adjacent ball field. The barrack was large, but it was nearly overwhelmed by the daunting presence of the glacier which appeared to be a massive series of rounded, rock-covered hills interspersed with walls of ice. The mounds look like huge, sleeping ancient monsters waiting for the right moment to return to life and overtake everything the white man has built here. “What do you think, Cap? You’re looking awfully hard at something.” “I was just noticing how even these large buildings seem so small compared to the mountain glacier. It just sits there like a silent menace.” “Wild, isn’t it?” “Interesting place. I think I like it. Awfully busy up here, Sla’cheen.”
The train stopped at a small telegraph station on the south side of National Creek. All the passengers were checked there and directed to their destinations. Johnny followed Cap as they stepped off the train onto the ground. There was no large platform like the ones at Chitina and McCarthy. “What an overpowering presence !” Johnny was remarking about the appearance of the fourteen-story mill building which towered above all else. The bright midday summer sun accentuated the peeling and fading paint on the upper reaches of the tall wooden structure. It was clearly in need of a new paint job. Below the were a series of stately buildings following a long walkway up a hill toward what appeared to be a log dam about a quarter-mile away. At the diminutive telegraph station, a very gaunt, older man stood looking up and smiling. “Father, it’s only been about a month, but it seems like it’s been longer.” Johnny was shocked at how thin and old-looking his dad had become. It was certainly good to see a friendly, familiar face. The two embraced. Emil had known Cap since the boys were both very young. The two also hugged each other. This was unusual for the stand-offish Cap. “Boys, it is so good to see you both. I’m so pleased you’ll both be working here. You’re working under me, you know. Your sponsor, Frank Buckner, arranged everything. He even let me know you’d be coming on this train.” “How could he possibly know which train we would be coming on?” “The stationmaster at the junction telegraphed this station when you two checked in. The station notified the office. Frank came down the hill to let me know. So here I am. And here you are. You two both look great. I guess there’s a lot to be said for hard work. Looks like Green Butte did well for you. I am so thrilled to see you both.” “Dad, it just worked out well. We both decided we wanted to be here. Green Butte turned out to be the key. We made a little money and learned something about hard-rock mining .” “McCarthy take all your money?” “Dad, how’d you know?”
“I figured it out. Frank kept track of the telegrams every day. When you said you were coming and you failed to show, he became alarmed and told me. I thought about it for awhile. Then I realized what I would’ve done when I was your age.” “It sure is good to see you again, Dad. It’s really been too long.” “I took time to visit you at McCarthy last month, remember?” “The speeder visit? That was a quick trip.” “Couldn’t have done it without the railroad. Anyway, you’ll be helping the carpenters build the new powerhouse. When it’s up, you’ll be on my paint crew. That’s the big job. We just got done last year painting the remodeled plant.” “That must have been frustrating.” It was. The engineers made the mistake of allowing a composite roof. It ignited a few months after we finished building it. At least, that’s what they think happened. Just to be on the safe side, we won’t be repeating that expensive mistake. There’s large load of corrugated steel roofing on board this train, I believe. It surely won’t burn.” “Dad, you’re involved in the big rebuilding job?” “I’m not just the head painter, but I’m the assistance carpenter foreman. We have a very nice young man in charge named Christopher Jensen. He’s quite the carpenter. Chris requested you for this crew. We need to go to the office first, then I’ll get you checked into a room.” The tracks headed in a nearly straight line to the north, passing through a two-story covered loading dock at the base of the mill. As the three of them finished the conversation, Sal Reed began pulling the consist through the loading dock. The noise of the huge engine masked the roar of the creek rushing through a flume of heavy wood timbers. The flume directed the roaring water under the trestle toward a wood crib dam. The water spilled over the dam, disappearing under Kennicott Glacier about 300 feet away from the railroad trestle. The three men stepped off track grade, following a road which paralleled the trestle on the upstream side. The path crossed the creek at a wagon bridge, then continued toward a wooden stairway which climbed toward the office near the lower end of the 150-foot tall mill. |
Ch 26, Pt 1: "Arrival at Kennecott
Shushanna Junction received its name because it was the jumping-off point for the Shushanna gold rush of 1913. Shushanna became Chisana, but Shushanna Junction remained the spelling for the terminal at CRNW mile 189. The last great Alaskan gold rush went nowhere, but the huge influx of prospectors resulted in a depletion of the game to such an extent that the Ahtnas abandoned the area for the duration of the operation of the railroad. The Ahtnas became a vanishing minority in their own land, displaced by a host of prospectors, speculators, homesteaders, and con-artists, as well as large and small mining concerns and other business interests. All of these were by their nature hostile to the old Ahtna way of life and, in varying degrees, even to the Ahtna people themselves. In 1924, Alaska’s Last Great Gold Rush had been over eight years. The game had slowly filtered back in. But the Indians who had lived and hunted in the upper Wrangells stayed out. Indians no longer walked the old trails of the Nizina valley and the upper reaches of the Chitina in search of game. That area was totally dominated by white miners, prospectors, and trappers. Even the old Nicolai camp at Dan Creek had disappeared under mine tailings--a victim of a large hydraulic placer operation begun by Stephen and Howard Birch. In an ironic and mocking twist, someone re-named the operation Nicolai Camp. The two grandsons of the great deceased chief watched from the station platform as the ultimate symbol of change pulled in. The huge Mikado steam engine chugged its way into Shushanna Junction towing forty-three cars loaded with mine workers and enough material to build a completely new power plant at Kennecott. “In they come with another large piece of the mine. Out they will go with another load of our copper.” “Just as they’ve been doing for thirteen years, Cap. Now we’re a part of it. We’ll be in one of those cars going to work with all those other men.” The stationmaster stepped outside through the baggage double-doors to talk with the two Indians. “You guys have a good time in town?” “It was good while the money lasted. You ever go to the Row?” The young, red-haired stationmaster smiled at the question. “No. I can’t afford it on my meager railroad salary. You must be miners. I came here to work the line and now I’ve got one of these depot jobs. Not bad, but it’s expensive to live here. What about you guys? I’ve never seen Indians heading up the tracks to work at Kennecott before. You’re probably the first ever. I hope it works out for you.” “Thanks. It wasn’t easy getting a job there, but the power plant fire seems to have caused a need for extra men.” “I’ll say. All those men on board are mainly extra carpenters and others needed to re-build it. You’ve probably figured out where all the material is going.” “Have they been out of power all this time?” “Oh, no. The Kennecott mechanics came down two days after the fire and took out the two generators and turbines in the old Mother Lode plant. That was handy for them. A real stroke of luck, actually that Kennecott happened to own the old power plant. They’d have been down for weeks without that equipment. The generators are temporary, though. Too small. The new ones haven’t arrived yet, but they’ll be coming along. Meanwhile, the camp seems to be back to normal. I hear they’re having power supply problems, however.”
“Better than no power at all, I suppose.” “The mines superintendent couldn’t be more pleased. He has a production schedule to meet. He intends to keep it. He’s the real boss around here, you know.” “By the way, who are you?” “I’m Mike Sherman. And you?” “My name’s Johnny Gadanski. My silent partner here is Cap Goodlataw.” “Nice to meet you two. I’m from Seattle. We have Indians down there, but you’re the first I’ve met face-to-face in this territory.” “Well, Mike, we’re not much different from you.” Cap scowled. “Except we live in the home of our ancestors. This is our country.” “Some of us younger guys understand that. Like I said, I hope it works out for you up there. How on earth did you do it?” “My dad works there and I know one of the engineers.” “You mean the name on the telegraph--Frank . . .” “Buckner. I don’t know him that well, but he offered to help get us in, and it looks like he’s keeping his word. He’s about the same age as you--or us.” “I’m twenty-three.” “We’re both twenty-five. We’re cousins. Call each other sla’cheen. There’s no word for that in English.” “Your father works at Kennecott?” “Emil Gadanski is my white father. He’s the head-painter.” “So you’re a half-breed?” “That’s me. My mother is a sister to Cap’s father, Chief Goodlataw.” “Chief?” “Where there’s Indians, there’s chiefs, Mike. You should have figured that one out.” “You two cousins must have worked together a long time. You two seem to fit well together somehow. Were you railroad workers?” “We were. We still are. We’ve worked off and on as a team since 1916 when we started out at Cascade Station. We’ve worked on the Indian crews out of Chitina and Strelna.” “Ah, yes. The indispensable Native crews.” “Indispensable?” “We stationmasters have to keep track of the line crews as well as all the trains. It’s common knowledge that it would be impossible to keep our tight railroad schedule without the Indian crews, but I doubt if anyone ever told you that.” “No. We suspected as much, though. It’s good to know we’re so important.” “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. The railroad could never muster enough manpower every season if not for you Indians at Chitina.” “The train will be ready soon, but in the meantime, I have some coffee on the stove. Care for some?”
“You’re a good man, Mike . . .” “Sherman. It’s Mike Sherman. I’ll be right back. Two cups?” Cap nodded. Mike Sherman was back outside in a few minutes. “It’s still good. A little strong maybe. I just made it before the train arrived.” Mike sat down on the platform next to Johnny. The feet of the three men dangled toward the ground. “I’m pleased to talk with young people like me who have lived here all their lives. This must be a big change from when you grew up.” “You mean this railroad? We were both nine when the ket-chee-ten-eh arrived.” “Ket-chee-ten-eh? Train?” Johnny nodded. “You just gave me my first Native word.”
“You can call us Natives or Indians, but we’re Ahtnas. Whatever you do, don’t call us Eskimos. Ahtnas are Athabascan Indians. We Athabascans share some of the same words as the Apache and the Navaho.” Mike’s eyes widened. He sipped a cup of coffee and looked around. Then he focused on Cap. “Really? You’re not just an isolated group of Indians then?” “Not at all,” Johnny answered. Cap nodded in agreement. “We’re just part of a much greater people. Our elders tell us we came here from somewhere way south. Something bad happened over a thousand years ago. We don’t know when. It could have been much farther back then that. But whatever it was that happened way down there, it drove our ancestors into the land of the ice and the snow.”
“But I thought that your ancestors crossed over here from Siberia?” “Us? Not us. That was the Eskimos. The Yupiks and the Inupiat crossed. We’re Indian hillbillies.” “What do you mean by that?” “Grandfather told us that in times long forgotten we were part of a great civilization in the south. When things went very bad and our ancestors fled north, we lost our old refined ways because the land here is so primitive and cold. Long ago this land was a frontier for us, just like it was for the prospectors who came here a few years ago. We may be cruder than our southern cousins, but we survived here a long time. We made it. No one else can make that claim. Only the toughest and the smartest of us survived. That’s Cap and me. We’re the smart and the tough ones. There are others just like us. You couldn’t ever drive us out of here. You’d have to kill every one of us. Every one.” “Not us. We know we have to live with you guys. I just never gave much thought to any of you Indians before.” “Happens all the time. We’re here, but we’re invisible to you whites.” “Sorry. You’re right.” “Was it very wild where you grew up before the railroad, the ket-chee-ten-eh arrived?” “That’s good, Mike. Ket-chee-ten-eh means train. Ket-chee-ten-eh thloo-da-kee means railroad. And yes, it was wild. But I can always remember white men there at Chittyna. They’ve been there at least since I was born.” Chit-tee-nah?” “That’s what they called it until someone changed it so it sounded more white. I still prefer the old -sounding name.” “You grew up in the old Indian way?” Johnny and Cap both nodded. A single blast from the train whistle interrupted the conversation. The young stationmaster pointed south toward the main part of town and continued. “Ordinarily the engineer would back this train down this siding toward town. Not this time. Sal Reed will be pulling the consist north in a few minutes. That was the first warning signal. Sal’s almost ready. Everything and everyone on board is going to Kennecott.” “We need to load up now?” “Not yet. I’ll let you know. I’ll be giving the conductor the all-clear soon. Then they’ll pull forward to that siding past the repair barn. Then the crew will hook up our pusher.” “Pusher?” | |||||||||||||
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CRNW conductor --Cordova Museum Continue |
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