Chapter 11: "Mary Storms into Alaska," pt 2 | |||||||||||||
click on picture for larger image: these pictures are the one which appear in the book for this chapter. | |||||||||||||
They stood at the edge of the ship’s rail looking down at the dock. The skies were overcast and a light rain fell. A warm, mild wind blew gently. The main storm had moved on, leaving gradually clearing summer skies. Below them were steel rails which extended close to the berth. An observation car was backed up to the ship. In front of the coach, facing away from the ship, was mogul engine No. 102, quietly puffing steam and ready to pick up the guests and move on. “Look, dear. That’s another special private coach down there. They fixed it up just for us and named it The Kennecott.” “What? Another Kennecott?” “Maybe my company lacks imagination, but the staff means well. They fixed this one up for us to make our run up to the real town of Kennecott. We’ll have a nice, pleasant trip into the Copper River valley. You’ll love it. The private car is waiting to take us into town. In a few days, we’ll ride it up the rails. We have a special staff for it right here.”
“Stephen, I thought that the first Kennecott looked plain. This one looks like an ordinary railroad car--and it’s wood, not steel. How quaint. I don’t like quaint. Is that all they have?” “That’s the superintendent’s personal car. He had it converted just for our personal use. It’s very comfortable and it has a nice ride. I know. I’ve been on it before. You’ll be fine, Darling.” “Why’d you have to drag that big locomotive along with us?” “Number 74? It’s the one which will pull us up the line. Great, isn’t it?” “Stephen, if you drag me along on this trip of yours, I’ll never forgive you.” “Well, try to forgive me, Mary, because we’re both going. We leave for Chitina in two days. We’re committed and that’s that.” The couple walked down the gangplank like royalty, arm-in-arm, smiling and waving at the small crowd. The appearance was impressive, leaving no hint of the growing discord which was developing between Stephen and Mary. Mary smiled and pretended she was happy to be in Cordova. Stephen was satisfied with the deceptive appearance. Mary was well-practiced in that. They entered the coach from the open deck at the rear. Stephen’s aid Dermot helped Mary onto the high step from above, while Stephen pushed from below. “That’s a most undignified way to enter a coach, Stephen.”
“I’m sorry, dear. It’s just built that way. Look around you.” The coach had over-sized plate-glass windows which greatly enhanced the viewing while creating a warm, bright atmosphere. The rear observation and dining room was tastefully furnished, right down to the the light-red oak wood finish. The chairs were the plush red velvet which had become standard in the CRNW coaches, except these were of a higher grade and were far more comfortable. The high ceiling boasted ornate chandeliers. It was not up to New York City standards, but it pleasantly surprised and pleased Mary. “Stephen, I believe this will do nicely. Plush-frontier ornate decor, how impressively different. Yes, this will do. I can live with this.” The other women of the party boarded behind Mary. All sat in the lounge that had been carefully, tastefully, and expensively designed to display in a slightly understated way the power and even majesty that was the company which was best embodied by Stephen Birch himself. The tracks ran along a curved trestle above the ocean water. When it reached the shore the train slowed and then stopped at a small depot. “We’re here, Mary. A wagon will be there waiting to pick us up at the station. The Windsor is only a few blocks away.” The hotel was as close to a luxury-class accommodation as one could find in Alaska in those days. Mary was not impressed, but it would have to do. This time, since she was still feeling the ill-effects of the ocean voyage and was not up to her usual impossible self, she kept her thoughts to herself. She would have plenty of time later to make up for it.
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04 November 2010
Ch 11, Pt 2: "Mary Storms into Alaska"
Ch 11, Pt 1: "Mary Storms into Alaska"
Chapter 11: "Mary Storms into Alaska", pt 1 | |||||||||||||||||||||
click on picture for larger image: these pictures include the ones which appear in the book for this chapter. | |||||||||||||||||||||
sick. The trip to Seattle had been pleasant enough. The S.S. Mariposa made it all the way to Juneau on relatively calm seas. It rocked gently but not violently. Then the Alaska Steamship passenger liner entered the open waters of the Gulf of Alaska. The seas become so turbulent that Mary could hear the whirring sound of single propeller as it momentarily left the water before the see-sawing of the ship pulled the bow high into the air, submerging the stern. The ship also began rocking sideways much more than she would ever have imagined possible.
What began as an exciting honeymoon excursion culminating in a trip on the Alaska Steamship vessel and a train ride into the Copper River valley was looking increasing like just another one of Stephen’s business trips. He had taken it upon himself to make all the arrangements without consulting her. At the time, it all seemed acceptable to Mary. She was used to her father making all the important decisions in her life. It was he who had first introduced her to Stephen. She first met the man at an extravagant ball in New York City on an excursion paid for by her father Rufus. Mary was completely taken in by his quiet charm. She wanted a sophisticated, but well-heeled gentleman. It would be even more ideal if the suitor was from New York City or Boston or some other city of culture. After all, she was a debutante of high social upbringing. Her father, Rufus Rand, headed Minneapolis Gas Light Company, which placed her high in the elite social circles. She wanted a man of considerable physical attraction who had the right background and stature. That wasn’t too much to ask. Stephen had no blue-blood. He was not a Rothschild or an Astor. Although Birch’s best man was a Havemeyer and one of his ushers was a Rockefeller, Stephen’s parents were of humble origins. But relative unknown though he was, he nevertheless headed that large copper company and therefore he had power. With the power came wealth and status. He was tall and attractive. He was from the wrong family, but two out of three would have to do.
Stephen only recently made his name by virtues of his wild successes in the copper mining business of Alaska. His fortune originated from some very far distant and ice-encrusted place suitable only for the very hardy or foolish. Or, worse yet, the very crude. Mary was not crude. She was refined and sophisticated. She went to great lengths to let everyone know that.
They left New York City in a specially outfitted Pullman private car built to Stephen’s specifications. The car was comfortable but not ornate by east coast standards. Stephen liked some of the trappings of power, but he shied away from the ostentatious. On the contrary, he showed all the modesty and humility which one would expect from a man born of common people, much to Mary’s distress. Someone in the company named the Pullman coach The Stephen Birch, but Birch re-named the observation car The Kennecott. Birch was a background player. He did not like to see his name stand out in public. Mary wanted all the status she could gain through her new husband’s position. She did not learn until later that the Kennecott had briefly existed as The Stephen Birch. She was not pleased to learn of the change of the name, which she through Dermot, one of her husband’s aides. The change of name robbed her of a small measure of status which was, after all, her entitlement as wife of the president of Kennecott. At least the ride through Great Northern Railroad country had been spectacular. All the accompanying wedding guests were stunned by the sights along the mountainous part of the route. Mary was more concerned with what opera would be playing at the theater in Seattle when they reached that west coast port city. Seattle has been known as a center of cultural activity since well before the turn of the century. Mary was at best mildly impressed. No opera was playing when they arrived. Mary found the Broadway theater production to be vulgar. On the other hand, she found that the Olympic Hotel was up to the level of catering and luxurious appointments she required. The entire wedding party remained in Seattle several days while Alaska Steamship completed the outfitting of the S.S. Mariposa for this elite wedding party. The steamship company knocked down walls to convert five rooms into one elegant stateroom for the new high-society couple. At the same time, arrangements for hauling the last of the great Mikado Brooks engines were being completed. This required considerable re-decking for the heavy, Cordova-bound load.
The trip north through the Queen Charlotte Islands and Southeast Alaska had been stunning. As is typical in this part of the Northwest, the mid-summer seas were calm. Mary failed to appreciate the sunshine which followed the honey-mooners as far as Juneau. Such good weather over the West Coast for three days in a row is rare in this part of the world at any time. The clear skies revealed a delightful area of prime old forest land of intense rugged beauty. Even Mary was impressed. She found viewing such forested fjords in the Alexander Archipelago from the luxurious comfort of an Alaska Steamship liner to be thrilling. A unique sense of luxury she never before experienced came with the passage through the panhandle of Alaska while the snappy waiters did their best to cater to her every demand. She had many demands. Yet Mary’s relative good mood did not extend to the help who had to serve her. The staff learned to dislike Mary intensely. She proved to be excessively difficult to please while being only too quick to criticize. Everyone from the captain on down was only too well aware that Stephen Birch controlled the company which owned Alaska Steamship. The staff was accustomed to serving middle-class people. This voyage was more like entertaining royalty. The staff was barely up to the job of continually anticipating and carrying out Mary’s many demands.
The cruise was not a charter, despite the considerable work done to accommodate the wedding party. Other paying passengers were aboard. The ship had a scheduled stop in Juneau. Stephen and the party of upper-class men and company officials wanted to visit the Treadwell Mine across the channel and the new Alaska-Juneau Mine This was of no possible interest to Mary. She was left to her own devices at the Baranof Hotel, where she was free to terrorize the hotel staff while Birch and his mining cronies visited those enormous gold producing operations. Stephen was beginning to appear to be more interested in business than he was in their marriage. Mary’s predisposition against Alaska was only strengthened by Stephen’s side trips to those mines. When the ship left the archipelago and entered the Gulf of Alaska it encountered a storm which mercilessly pounded the vessel. The 95-ton locomotive on the reinforced front deck caused the ship to be excessively top-heavy. It began to toss and roll dangerously. Mary was sick and felt compelled to leave her stateroom for the outside rails. She was not the only one, but no one else’s problems mattered to Mary. Finally the Mariposa steamed itself out of the storm and quietly slipped into the Cordova harbor, but Mary’s insides told her the ship was rocking. It would be days before she felt well enough to continue.
“The trip was ghastly, Stephen. I thought I’d die out there. It looked like the whole ship would come apart or tip over.” “We were really worried about losing No. 74. We were afraid it’d break loose.” “Number 74? Stephen, I, your brand-new wife nearly dies on our honeymoon voyage and all you’re concerned about is an engine? All you care about are your machines and your mines. Why’d I ever marry you? Some husband.” “Mary, calm down. I know you didn’t mean that. I’m sorry about that storm and how sick and scared you must have been.” “I was frightened to death, Stephen. If I want that kind of experience, tie me down to the big roller coaster at Coney Island. And sick, I’ll be sick for days.” “Maybe coming to Alaska for the honeymoon wasn’t the best idea I ever had.” “Stephen, I don’t know why I ever let you talk me into this trip. You know how little I care for wilderness or mining--especially in this ice-bound Alaskan wilderness of yours. I don’t feel like traveling in anything now that I’m off that cursed ship of yours. That horrible, heavy engine you had to bring along caused that ship to sway wildly all over the place. I don’t care if I ever ride another train again.” “Darling, Mary, what am I going to do with you? We’re here. We’ve arrived in Cordova. I’m sorry that the storm was so violent. Didn’t feel so well myself. Most of us got sick from it, but we still have that train trip ahead of us. You’ll love it. It’s far better than the much longer Great Northern run we just took.” “I don’t want to go, Stephen. If you must go, then go without me.” “Darling, Earl Stannard built us a special honeymoon cottage at Kennecott. We have to go. It wouldn’t be right not to go now. You have to come along. You can do it, Mary, you’ll be all right.” “Stephen, I’m not going.” “Mary, you are my wife, and you are going and that’s that. It’s time you grew up. You are the wife of a man who heads an important American corporation. Now act your part. You know I do everything I possibly can to see to your every need and desire. Besides, Alaska is not ice-bound. It’s not even that rugged anymore, either. Not like it used to be. We built a modern railroad and transformed the Copper valley region into an extension of our world-wide copper empire.”  From 1915 until the 1950s, the Kennecott corporate offices were here in the Equitable Insurance Building, NYC
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Ch 10, Pt 5: "Abercrombie Rapids Landing"
Abercrombie Rapids Landing: conclusion Above and below: Constructing a snowshed  --John R. Van Cleve Collection preceded the metallic roar of the heavy iron wheels rumbling down the steel rails. Then I heard the familiar sound of the whistle warning of the train’s approach into this coaling and watering stop--the first point where the railroad left the coastal river delta and entered the interior. I had heard the same sound of the various locomotive steam whistles many times in the last few years. It had become a part of my life. The railroad brought the whole world to Chitina every time another engine chugged in from Cordova. All of us at Chitina, Native and white alike, looked forward to its coming. The train had become a part of my being. It was undoubtedly the most thrilling sound I knew because it always brought something new to our town. 
the track were increasing in intensity. Then I picked up the first sound of metal-to-metal and the steam sounds which would soon override the loud roar of the Copper River passing over the rocks of Abercrombie Rapids. We had brought tea and rice with us from Chittyna. The thloo-ka had cooked nicely on the wood fire, despite the constant winds which made it difficult to start and keep a cooking fire going . As Charlie dished up for both of us, the work train approached the long low trestle. We were camped just at the end of it. The engine was almost on top of us as it slowed down in anticipation of reaching its final destination for the evening, which was a siding by the large cannery that had been built at the landing to exploit all those salmon coming upstream. I was very concerned that the cannery would may take too many of our thloo-ka from the river. It had already happened before when the huge fish-traps in the Copper River delta kept salmon from coming up in the winter of 1899. That was the year the whole village nearly starved. I hoped this would never happen again, but I worried when I saw such a large cannery building sitting there at the landing at the head of the narrow canyon.
The roar of the approaching train began to override that of the rapids as it bore down on us from across the long trestle. The bright lights of the forward lantern finally revealed our campsite to the engineer, nearly blinding us. The sound continued to intensify, completely drowning out our own voices as the enormous engine number 21 and its complement of wooden box cars and flat cars screeched past us. The brakes were already being applied as it approached its destination. Soon all would be silent, except for the constant sound of the roaring rapids and the howling of the winds which never stopped blowing through the narrow canyon. Brother and I would sleep well tonight now that the train had passed and all was back to normal. We finished our meal of fresh fish and rice, had a last cup of Lipton’s tea, and turned in under cover of our small tent, which I had secured under the trestle abutment where it was protected from the wailing winds which would blow down through the canyon that evening while we slept underneath the trestle in complete peace and a sense of goodness in the wonderful world which was ours. For us sla'cheen, tomorrow would be another adventure. Continue with |
Ch 10, Pt 4: "Abercrombie Rapids Landing"
Chapter 10: Abercrombie Rapids Landing, pt 4 |
The images below can be clicked for larger photo or drawing |
03 November 2010
Ch 10, Pt 3: "Abercrombie Rapids Landing"
Chapter 10, Pt 3: "Abercrombie Rapids Landing" |
The images below can be clicked for larger photo or drawing |
Across the river from us was a long, steep cliff wall. To our backs was a similar rocky wall rising through heavy-growth willows and alders and other brush near the track grade until the rocky surface in its extreme height left its plant coverings behind. According to Dad’s map, the ridge rose to about 3500 feet, shooting nearly straight up from the narrow river base. The narrow canyon could get very dark during the night time, though this time of year the sun barely dipped below the horizon over the ocean. Instead we viewed long shadows which made the river almost invisible as everything dimmed for a few hours. I could barely see the most distant snowshed from our campsite as the shadows filled in the lowest parts of the canyon. That snowshed tunnel was the first one to be completed in this section of the five new ones which would ultimately be constructed. The frame of the second was already a heavy timber skeleton, while the third one existed only as a large pile of large timbers sitting in neat rows beside the tracks. Those were the only ones we could see.
Beyond the canyon to the southeast we could see tall peaks in the distance. These appeared to be permanently capped with snow. It was pitch black to our north, but light to the south revealed the summits of some of the southeastern peaks of the Chugach Range. They were highlighted by the long rays of the very distant sun setting over the Gulf of Alaska. Then I could hear it. I’d been waiting for that sound. Somewhere in the darkness to our south a work train was rumbling towards us. That unmistakable first faint sound was the announcement coming from the steam whistle. Most likely we were hearing the whistle from somewhere near the Million Dollar Bridge, five miles south of us. Tomorrow we would cross that famous bridge. The canyon opened up just north of the steel bridge, which was five miles south of us. The railroad steam sounds carried right through the canyon according to Dad. He was right. It would not be too long before I would be able to feel the rumble of that train coming through the steel tracks. |
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