Deputy Marshal Paddy McMahon stood on the high point of the scaffold, just above the mill elevator cap, with Bill Douglass and Walter Richelsen. “It certainly was quite a fall from way up here.” McMahon peered over the west wall to see for himself, then shuddered. “I see you’ve already examined the pulley system here, and you’ve concluded the cut is a deliberate one.” “Yes, I was the first to inspect this pulley system. No doubt in my mind that the cut is purposeful.” “Unfortunately, Mr. Douglass, that’s not good enough. It could be deliberate, then maybe not. You or one of your men could have just as well have done this. Even if it is what you say it is, there is no way to tie it to the suspects. I’ve already interviewed the men who were up here at the time. No one was ever threatened verbally or otherwise. Nothing was seen which ties any of your suspects to this rope break. And I have no admissions from any one of the five suspects. I’ll have to let them go. I’m officially concluding that this incident was an accident. I’ll mail you my report from the Valdez office.” Douglass and Walter Richelsen looked at the deputy marshal in disbelief. There was little doubt in any one’s mind that this was no accident. The impression both men got was that McMahon was only too eager to close the case. The deputy marshal, who also served as the coroner, walked down the scaffold ramp, leaving the engineers behind, as he headed back to his speeder. An hour later the five men were released from their cell in Cordova.
“Well, that’s that,” concluded Bill Douglass. “It’s time to resume this paint work. There is nothing more which can be done here. Now I’ll have to report this as an accident to the main office. They won’t be to happy about that. Then there’s the matter of all those men who feel wronged by the death of Henry Jackson, including the two Chitina Indians who seem to think that they were the intended targets. I’m wondering if I shouldn’t just send them back to Chitina.” “Let me assess the situation, Bill. That may not be a good enough reason to remove those two.” “Three. One of them is a younger brother.” “All the more reason to proceed with caution. Let me talk with them first and see how they’re going to handle this. Now that the investigation is over, they may just want to leave anyway.” “It’s all yours, Walter. Take Frank with you when you visit them. He knows the two older ones quite well, and has already been down there to visit them. He can give you the best idea as to the state of mind of the three of them.” Walter found Frank up in the map room with Russell Belvedere working on some new drawings. The map room was Frank’s favorite place. “Frank, I need to talk with you about whether to retain the three men we hired for the mill painting crew. Douglass is considering letting them go to prevent problems.” “Why, what happened?” “The deputy marshal just left. He concluded there is no evidence linking those five scoundrels, uh, suspects that is, who ran off the site when the accident occurred. He even implied that one of us might have altered the evidence. The deputy marshal said he’ll release them for lack of evidence.” Frank shook his head in disbelief. “They were all shocked, of course and are completely convinced that the collapse of the platform was a deliberate act aimed at them. However, the two older ones are determined not to let this incident set them back. They want to continue with this job until it is done. Only the mill job. Nothing more. I heard nothing which indicated they blamed anyone else but those five Cordova men. You could talk with them yourself, if you like. But these men work hard and have done quality work. Chris made one of the foreman, and he’s driven the crew hard, running unusually long hours and taking lunch right on the job site. The third one learned quickly and keeps up with the others. Chris told me they require almost no supervision since they started repainting the mill. I think we owe it to them to let them remain through this job.” “You show a great deal of confidence in them, Frank. I want to talk with them personally just to see for myself. Where would they be now? “They’ve been working in the paint shop since the accident, cleaning up everything down there and making improvements to the place, waiting for us to decide when to resume the mill-painting work.” “Good, they should be alone then out of earshot of anyone else if they’re down there. Let’s go check on them, Frank.” Chris and Ole were on the main level of the shop when the two engineers entered. “Chris, how are you doing? The investigation’s over. The coroner has left. Are you ready to resume work up there on the scaffold?” “This is the most horrible accident I’ve ever seen. I was right there, too. But we have accidents here and life goes on. I’m ready to continue. So is Ole and the others. We’re quite sure we didn’t cause it. The failure had to be deliberate. We’ll just have to satisfy ourselves with that, Walter.” “The coroner says otherwise.” “You mean he’s calling it an accident? I examined the pulley and ropes myself, just to make sure it wasn’t us. That rope was deliberately cut. No doubt in my mind about that.” “I agree, but the case is officially closed. We want to get the job finished, of course, but we’re not going to use a platform like the last one. Our engineering staff will draw up plans for a scaffold that will extend all the way up the front west face of the mill. As soon as we have the plans drawn up, we’ll get them to you. Right now we want to interview the three Native painters. What’s your assessment of them, Chris? Are all three of them prepared to continue without causing us problems?”
“Those men were never a problem. The only incident I’m aware of was started by Roger Hyde when he deliberately pushed Charles Gadanski, who is Johnny’s younger brother, off the coach platform.” “I never heard about that incident. Anything more come of it? Any altercation?” “Uh, no Mr. Richelsen, nothing came of it. Nothing at all. There was nothing after that or before it which came to my attention. Those boys are here to do a job. I believe they want to prove the point that they can do at least as good a job as anyone here, if not better. That doesn’t spell trouble to me.” “Thanks, Chris. How about you Ole? Do you have anything to add?” “I don’t know the men well. I’ve just observed them at work. They even take their lunches to the job to save time and get more work done. None of them is an expert painter, but you’d never know. Johnny must have picked up some tricks from his father Emil when Johnny worked here last year. I say keep them on.” Walter and Frank headed over to the open hatch leading into the basement level. Down below Charles watched as the two stepped down the creaking wooden steps. “Johnny, Frank is here.” Johnny stepped forward from a dark, remote area of the large basement. He and Cap were near the far end looking over some paint tools which they had just discovered. “Frank, good to see you.” “Johnny, this is Walter Richelsen, our chief engineer. He is here to ask you some questions.” They shook hands. “I want to see Cap as well, could you call him forward?” “I’m here.” Cap stepped out of the darkness. “First, you should know that the deputy marshal determined that there is not enough evidence to hold the five suspects in the death of Henry Jackson. We’re not happy with that, but this brings the case to an end officially.” He watched for the reactions. The three Indians heard exactly what they expected. The news was no surprise. They revealed no readable expressions. Johnny spoke for the three of them. “This is just what we expected. We’ve long ago learned that your justice is not ours. None of us hold it against any of you personally. We understand. If any of those men were guilty, they will pay anyway, without the law or any of us stepping in. If we weren’t part of the crew, someone would probably have paid for Henry’s death. But once we Indians are mixed in, the law turns strange. It always has. As I said, we don’t blame you for that. It just is. “I know why you came here. You think that now we might be a problem for the company. Probably someone higher up wants to send us home. Maybe even you. We’re not here to make trouble for Kennecott. Even after what has happened we still like it here. We came here to do one job, which is to paint the mill. We want to finish that job and then go back to our hunting this fall. We work together. We quit together. We have discussed this among ourselves at length and I speak for us all.” Cap and Charles nodded, revealing no emotion at all. “Frank, I’m satisfied. Unless Bill Douglass says otherwise, you will all remain on the job until it is done. Are you all quite sure none of you will have problems working those heights after all of this?” “It won’t be easy for any of us. I nearly died up there. Charles never cared for heights from the start. But we need to finish this and we will.” “I can accept that. I am ordering one change, however. We won’t be using a hanging platform. We’ll design a scaffold for the west face that will cover all the levels. That would have been the proper thing to do in the first place. We’ll have a design for the carpenters shortly. “If Douglass gives the go ahead, you’ll probably be able to assist the carpenters in building the new structure, so the mill face can be safely painted. Besides, now we have some extensive roof repair up there, so the carpenters will be up there anyway.”
Walter looked at each of them and at Frank. “Are there any more questions or observations?” Nothing was said. “Very good then. I’m going back to the office to start a design for the scaffold. Thank you men. You’ve done well through all of this. I know it has not been easy. You’re doing better than most would under the circumstances.” Charles decided he needed to add a few words. “That’s because we stick together and depend on each other. It makes us stronger. We are proud to be Indian and proud to be here doing this. We know that we can finish the job. We will do it well. Then we will leave.” Frank smiled at Charles and silently waved at them as he turned and , followed Walter back up the stairs.. The three stood there in the paint shop in silence for some time facing each other in a circle. “I really thought they’d drop us after all that. I still held out hope that the law would do something about Hyde and the others. The spirit of Henry Jackson will not rest well now.” “But the danger has passed, Sla’cheen. We were the targets, but the evil spirit of death found someone else. We must give thanks to Henry’s spirit tonight. It is certain that at least one of us would have died had not Henry been there to take our place.” The men returned to their work in the shop. Tomorrow they would go back to the mill and complete the job they had started. Less than a month later the mill would have a brand-new look as a light gray building with dark green trim from the eighth level to the fourteenth. For the next five years, until a new superintendent finally replaced the great Bill Douglass, the mill would remain gray, in sharp contrast to the red buildings around it. The light gray would serve as a reminder to all who had been there of the unfortunate and unnecessary death of a well-loved yard crew foreman--the unintended victim of a criminal act. In the early 1930s a new manager looked at the mill and decided it appeared distinctly out of place with its light gray color. The new manager, would not last long. He was a victim of suicide a few months after he left camp, but this unnamed man’s single obvious accomplishment was restoring the mill to its original color, and erasing with it the memories of what had happened there only a few years before. In 1937, the last full year of its operation, the mill was repainted one last time, in startlingly sharp red with bright white trim, much as a corpse gets a fresh make-over before the coffin lid is closed. For all those who were there at the time, the memory of the days when the mill was painted light gray would remain as one of the most fascinating and endearing of times of old Kennecott. For the gray-painted mill was the distinctive work of three proud and unforgettable Ahtna Indians. These were the only Natives who would ever work at historic Kennecott--three young men whose lives and spiritual beings were forever intertwined with Kennecott Copper and its Copper River and Northwestern Railway.
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10 February 2011
Chapter 42: "The Indians Paint the Mill Gray"
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