Chapter 32: "Return to Chitina," Pt 1

Looking over the ruined generators and turbines on the site of the burned-out power plant, July 1924: in the background are some of the north Kennecott cottages that were built in 1914 The four Erie boilers were rebuilt in place, making them the oldest part of the new power plant Beginning the reconstruction of the Kennecott power plant: W.A. RIchelsen photos     Chitina Local No. 71 was steaming up in preparation for pulling out of Kennecott with the usual load of thirty-five cars of bagged ore and a Pullman combination passenger and baggage coach up front.  It was late in October.  The snow which sat for three weeks at the level of Jumbo had finally dropped 4,000 feet down to Kennecott.  At first it was just a light dusting, but a snow squall moved in to reinforce the first light layer.  The storm began to intensify as morning moved toward the afternoon.   It began to turn dark earlier than usual.  The spectacular view of the nearby glacier dimmed until only a hint of the enormous mounds could be seen.  At the front of the Pullman combine was the baggage compartment.  On its floor sat the coffin of the late Emil Gadanski, father of Johnny, the son who stood on the high coach floor just inside the open sliding door. A CRNW combine and three day coaches           A large group of men from the many crews of the lower camp, as well as several of the engineers from the office staff stood near the tracks in front of the west barrack and company store in a silent tribute to the man who had worked at Kennecott since the railroad arrived in 1911.  It was thirteen years later. In those few years, only a handful could claim to have been at camp from the very beginning.  A man who had become well known among the mill site crews was taking his final journey home to Chitina, accompanied by a son and an in-law who had worked a brief time with him as his life came to a close in this remote camp of the lower slopes of the Wrangells.           The group had assembled on a very short notice.  Johnny Gadanski wanted to leave immediately, but Bill Douglass held up the train long enough for the group to perform a small memorial ceremony at the station for a man who was very well liked.   John Bittner played Amazing Grace on his trumpet, causing all the women present and several of the men to break down.            Johnny was moved by this unexpected show of emotion for this man who was his father. He would leave seeing these residents of Kennecott in a much different light.  The group was saying goodbye to one of their own.  The camp always rallied behind its own. It was a temporary camp.  Yet it had a permanent look.  The people who lived there became one large family.  It was the odd magic of Kennecott which united them.           Superintendent Douglass and Frank Buckner had come down to the front of the train to see the late Emil off and to say farewell to Johnny and Cap.  Even Bill Morris and Eldon Johnson had come down from the mines to pay their respects. Chris Jensen came over to shake the hand of Johnny and say a few words of remembrance for Emil, who had worked under him,  as well as some words of appreciation to the son who was now there to escort the body to its final resting place.             Johnny asked Frank to send a telegraph to McCarthy to alert Rose that he would be coming through.  He hoped to convince her to accompany him to Chitina.  The air turned even colder as the glacier valley darkened.  Heavy, fresh, wet snow began to whip around, splattering everything.   Engine 71 built up a large head of steam and blasted a single, loud whistle signal.  The crowd backed away from the rails as the locomotive began to pull forward, its valves steaming loudly as it  strained against the nearly 4000-ton load.               There were no other passengers aboard.  The coach attendant moved to the separate passenger area, as Johnny and Cap stood at the open cargo door, waving at  Frank Buckner, Bill Douglass, Chris Jensen and all the others who stood by until the train moved out of sight, while the others began returning to the warmth of the various buildings.  It was becoming too nasty to remain outdoors.  The attendant returned to the front and closed the first of the two cargo doors.  Cap closed the second, snapping the latch into its locked position.  They moved to the stove in the baggage compartment, but it was cold.            “The stove in the rear is hot.  You might as well come on back, boys. You’ve already done your part up here.  It’s too cold here for the living.”            The Indians walked all the way to the rear of the fifty-five foot-long coach.  The train had begun its 600-foot descent into McCarthy.  It would arrive in a matter of minutes.  The Indians warmed their hands with the heat of the coal pot-belly stove.            “I never thought I’d see anything like this, Cap.  They came out in the cold to see Dad off. It made me feel very special to be a part of what just happened back there. Those people were genuine. I feel humbled.”            “They do come together for one of their own, don’t they?  It’s hard not to be affected by what just happened. It was good to be there.  Thank you for this experience, Sla’cheen.   We did what we said we would.”            “I wish we could have brought Dad back to Chitina alive so Mom could have taken care of him, like we planned.  We stayed too long.  No one seemed to realize just how sick he was.  I think he knew when he talked to me over the phone that last time, but he wanted me to stay on at Erie.  What do you make of that, Cap?” McCarthy in winter  --Ben Jackson photo            “Sla’cheen, his real home was not Chitina. It was Kennecott. He died where he wanted to die.  He never wanted to leave there. It was his choice.  We’re taking him to our home because it makes us feel better, but your father is already home.”            Cap looked in the direction of the glacier, but saw nothing but snow swirling as the winds continued to swirl the snow around in no particular direction.  The first snow storm of the season seemed to be an unusually large one.            “It seems to fit, Johnny.  It’s the sloo-elth’chee--the wind coming off the glacier.  It’s as if the Great Creator himself is greeting your father.”            He remained silent for the remainder of the brief trip into the junction.            “It is our time to go.  We made our point just as we set out to do. We even had a good time doing it.  I may return someday.  But this is not my life.  It was just an experience.  It will be good to be home again.”             Johnny did not reply.  Cap continued.            “What about Rose?  Do you think she’ll be coming along?”            “Who knows?  I want her to come with me back to Chitina.  We’ll have time to leave the train at McCarthy and check on her anyway.  I have a dog to pick up.  I hope Kay-yew-nee is still there.”            “Oh that’s right.  Yew nee!  I’ll bet he wondered what happened to us. I’d like to use him on my trap line this winter.”            “Why don’t you do that, Cap?  The dog likes the wilds better than being in town anyway.  He’s just like you. Wild, but solid and reliable.”            There was no more conversation until the train reached Shushanna Junction near McCarthy.   Both young men stood up, straining to see ahead beyond the blowing snows toward the station platform.  Sure enough, the lean dark figure of Rose was there, well dressed with a large hat held in place by a bandanna.  Right beside her was the Siberian mutt, happily waving his tail with his ears straight up in eager anticipation. It was as if he knew his old masters were returning.              Johnny and Rose  hugged for a long time on the platform and then kissed while Cap idly played with the dog.  Cap was hoping this would not go on too long. He wanted to get on with the trip.   He hoped that he would not end up overnight in McCarthy simply because Rose was unable to make up her mind about leaving with Johnny.   He began to feel a sense of despondency.   He knew that after he arrived at Chitina, the long standing team would finally end. Cap found himself already regretting  something which had not yet happened.           Maybe I better concentrate on doing my winter trapping.  If I’m lucky, I’ll find one of the local girls to come along with me for the winter--maybe Shirley or even Violet.  No, not Violet.            I’d like to run a trapping line near Tonsina like I did years ago with my father.          Haven’t heard anything about him since I left.  He must still be in good health. Maybe I’ll stay with him in Tonsina while I’m getting ready to trap. First I’d like to have a good time at the billiards hall. I think I could use a stiff drink.  There’s usually good female company in the saloon next door. North approach into Chitina   --R.K.Woods Coll. UAF AK & Polar Regions                Continue