“Your move, Johnny.” Cap set his stick down and moved over to one of the large, south-facing windows. The thermometer showed no mercury. “It’s been showing colder than forty-below for over a week now. Probably closer to sixty-below. We should be up on the hill in the cabin where it’s warmer.” “But boring. Need to get out of there once in a while.” It was dark outside, but the clear skies allowed a full moon to bathe the small cluster of frontier style buildings in an eerie glow. It was still and silent. At the railroad yard was a fully loaded ore train waiting for the locomotive to be pulled out of the shop so the load could be run to the Alaska Steamship wharf just beyond Cordova. The lights in the depot building were off but the locomotive repair barn lights were running as usual. Mikado No. 73 was pulled inside for some type of repair before continuing south. The Siberian lifted himself up to look out the window as well, but seeing nothing of interest, padded over to the billiards table. The air near the glass pane was uncomfortably cold. The edges of the glass had iced and frosted toward the center. Frost had formed around the door, making it difficult to close. Cap was keeping the fire in the pot-belly stove going. He had brought in a large load of wood for Smitty when the weather was much warmer. He opened the door and shoved another eighteen-inch log into the hole, then slammed the iron door shut. The pile was diminishing rapidly. Johnny made his shot, took a shot of whiskey and positioned himself for a follow-up. “When are you returning to your trap line, Cap?” “I’m not going anywhere until this cold spell lifts. I’m staying with you up there in the warm cabin we built for Shee-ya. Too cold and dangerous to be out there away from a fire. When it warms up I’ll pick up some supplies on Dad’s credit at the Cash Store. Credit at the Cash Store. Sounds strange, doesn’t it?”
“It’s just how we have to live, Cap. Ever since the white man brought his first trading post he brought us credit. What can you do when you can only get cash a few months out of a year?” “Live off the land ?” “That’s funny, Cap. But you know how it really is around here. Right. Live off the land. Good one.” “Dad still does.” “But you bring him goods from the Cash Store on credit.” “Oh, yes. You got me there, Sla’cheen.” “He’s not out on his trap line up the Tonsina, is he?” “Dad? He has more sense than that. He seems to know when the weather is about to turn cold. He always returns home until it breaks. Said he spent too much time out in it when he was a kid. “How is your trap-line going, Johnny? I haven’t taken as many pelts as last year, and that was less than the year before.” “It’s been the same up the Kotsina . I’m beginning to think we’ve trapped out this whole area. We may have to look to moving or extending the trap-lines.” “Oh, I don’t know, Johnny. It has always been up and down. Dad is getting too old to change, and he relies on me to keep it alive. We seem to be in the right area. The lynx and fox travel through, all right. So do the wolves. There just aren’t as many of them right now.” “Do you think it’s improved any down by Taral since we moved away?” “Maybe, but that’s spirit country over there. Dad doesn’t want to go back. Says it’s engii. Too many kay-yee-geh there. Maybe even Chaw-glith-tah-he himself.” “The devil? He really believes that ?” “They made bad medicine over there. Remember the Saghanni Ggaay. They only appeared after the curse of Nicolai. The ravens were always there with Nicolai when he lived alone. It’s best not to disturb what is there. We should never go back. Dad says some of us may return there as spirits. He says Nicolai is over there. Nicolai will never rest.” “I guess I should have asked if you really believe that, Cap.” “You don’t ? You will live to believe it, Sla’cheen.”
Johnny missed his shot and sat down on the bench by the window. He turned around and looked out toward the cold bright moon. “Speaking of kay-yee-geh, there’s Spirit Rock over there, with Spirit Mountain behind it, looking just as ghostly as anything I can imagine. This is strange country we live in, Cap. “But back to the business. Maybe it’s just that I’m not as interested in trapping as I used to be. Brother Charlie is still there to help, so we keep it alive, but I was really let down when Rose told me she did not want to leave McCarthy to come here. She says this place is too primitive.” “Maybe that should tell you something, Johnny.” “I notice you tend to call me Johnny whenever I mention Rose, but otherwise I’m Sla’cheen. I suppose that should tell me something.” “Rose would take you away from us forever. I don’t want that. If you want to be with her, you will have to give up Chitina and the rest of us, too. Then what happens when the mine runs out? Do you really think there will be a McCarthy after that? You know what will happen. What always happens? The white men take their precious metals and they run. All those gold rush towns from twenty-five years ago that were all over the territory--how many would you say are still real towns, Johnny? There aren’t many left now. McCarthy won’t last either. It will become history just like most of those others.” “But Cap, McCarthy is not a gold rush town. Yes, it serves May Creek and Chititu and Dan Creek, Chisana and that area, but it’s there because of Kennecott. And Kennecott is there to stay. Look at that ore train out on the tracks. It’s loaded fully, just as it has been for years. There will be one tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.” “Yes, Johnny, it makes you wonder about that deal grandfather made. But it can’t keep going on like this. I know everything up there looks like it will be there forever, but I can sense that it’s nearing its end. The people there just don’t know it yet.” Johnny stared at Cap for awhile, contemplating Cap’s words. He sat down on the bench near the window. Then he jumped back up. It was too cold close to the window. He moved over to the stove and shoved in another stick of wood. He pulled up a wooden captain’s chair and sat down right in front of the fire. |
07 February 2011
Chapter 33: "Billiard Hall Conversation," Pt 1
Chapter 32: "Return to Chitina," Pt 2
“Hello there, Cap. I’m so glad to see how well you took care of my Johnny. I want to go with him, but I can’t leave for a few days. Can you stay here ?” Oh, no. Just what I feared. Great Creator, save me from this one. I want to go home. Not stay here. Not this place. “How about if I take the dog and continue on with the coffin back to Chitina? That way you two can come down when you’re ready instead of having me around to get in your way. Come back when you’re ready.” “Cap, are you sure?” “Johnny, I want to go home. Maybe see Shirley. Stay with Dad. Go trapping.” “Okay, Cap. Take the dog. Mom will be waiting at the depot. Let her know I’ll be home soon.” “We’ve been together a long time, Cap. This last run was the most thrilling ever. But we knew this day would be coming. I know you’ve been anxious to get back to your own life at Tonsina. You know I’ve been wanting to get together with Rose.” Johnny extended his hand. Cap reached up, still sitting on the platform next to the dog, and shook Johnny’s hand weakly and without enthusiasm. So this is it. This is how our team finally ends. Just like that. The train gave a loud whistle blast. Cap watched as the two turned, arm in arm, walking down the road toward downtown McCarthy until they finally disappeared in the snow storm.
Cap led the dog aboard and slumped deep down into the seat. No one had boarded at McCarthy. Only the attendant was on board. He was in back stoking up the coal stove. The winds had sucked the warm air right out of the large coach. Cap pulled his woolen blanket around himself. It was good. Senior engineer Sal Reed had been checking the setting on the snow blade. It was ready if it was needed. The blade had to be set for any drifting which might occur along the way. Now Sal walked back and pulled himself up into the high cab where the fireman had the pressure built up and ready. Sal Reed pulled the reverse lever, then set off the loud whistle. The train began moving toward the long trestle crossing at the Kennicott River. It gained speed up as it made a run for the hill ahead. Pusher No. 102 was coupled in place at the rear to help the load over the hill. It would take the combined effort of both to make it to Porphyry, which was the highest point of the railbed west of McCarthy. The line crew had run ahead of the train on a motorized rail car , checking Kennicott River crossing for any potential problems. It had turned around on the far side of the long trestle at the wye, where the it waited for the train to pass, leaving the large engine and its consist on its own. It all was looking routine as the engine began slowing down on the grade at the southern slope of Fireweed Mountain, leaving the Kennicott River valley behind. The train would stop at the summit and gravel pit named Porphyry to disengage the pusher. The mogul pusher engine would then back down the hill to Shushanna Junction where it was permanently stationed. Back in the Pullman combine just behind the engine’s tender, Cap had fallen into a deep sleep. The dog was at his feet watching the attendant only a few seats back at the coal stove. Outside the moon was shining through the clouds as the storm began moving out of the valley. Cap began dreaming of walking the rails somewhere in the Chitina Valley on a very hot and sunny day. He was following the sun in the direction of Nicolai’s camp, his shirt hanging off his belt as sweat trickled off his bare back. It was just he and Kay-yew-nee. But he felt safe. In the distance, down a very long, straight section of track, he could see a bright reflection of a spirit figure. Maybe it was just the glint coming off the brass bell of a large train heading his way. Overhead those four large black ravens were flying in a wide circle. It was a few hours later when Cap finally awoke. Somehow he had slept through the stop at Porphyry, Chokosna station and Dwyer’s Inn at Strelna. But he sensed that the train was pulling up the last grade into Chitina. He looked down. There was Kay-yew-nee--the Ghost Spirit. The train pulled up at the depot ever so slowly. There was John’s mother Helen Nicolai Gadanski waiting outside on the platform. The snow storm had vanished. It was clear and cold as the stars shined brightly toward the cold earth. “Helen, good to see you.” “Cap, son, good to see you too.” Cap was not really her son. For many years, Helen had called him that anyway. “Is Johnny still with that woman at McCarthy?” “Yes, Helen. Johnny is still in McCarthy with Rose Katrina. He wanted you to know he would be here in a day or so.” “That Rose. I just don’t know about her. Johnny should have stayed on this train with you and with his father.” “I guess you’re here for the coffin.” “Someone has to wait for him. I’m still his wife, you know. My old man Fred will bring a wagon to pick up the coffin. Everyone else is still at dinner. At least you’re here, yaaze.” Helen hugged Cap. “Let’s wait in the warm station until the wagon arrives.” “That’s fine, son. We want you to join us for a late dinner of moose stew. Have you eaten?” “No, and I haven’t had any moose stew since Green Butte. I’ll be happy to come up for dinner.” “And to stay with us.” “I suppose I should wait around town a few days for Johnny to return. Then I need to go to Tonsina to see my father.” “I’ll wait here to help with the coffin, then I think I’ll head down to the billiards hall. What I really need is a drink. Thanks for the offer for moose stew and a place to stay. I’ll be up later.” Helen nodded. She understood. At least she thought she did. Cap would be drinking tonight. Just then the one-horse wagon came into view. There were three men aboard. “Fred brought plenty of help, Cap. My other son Charles and uncle Tanas have come.” Cap greeted the three men. Charles wanted to know more about his brother. “I miss him. When will he be back?” “Soon, Charles. I’m going over to the hall now.”
“Help us with this coffin, would you, Cap?” Cap assisted them in lifting the surprisingly light coffin onto the back of the wagon. “Mom, I’m going with Cap. I’ll bring him back when he’s done.” “Charles, take care of your brother. Bring him home.” Cap looked at Charles with some annoyance. “You don’t want to come with me.” “I have to make sure you’re all right, Cap. Johnny would expect it. You always took care of my brother. I will watch you and be your friend. You look like you need one.” As the wagon pulled out, Helen yelled back. “We’ll have moose stew up there and a place for you to stay for as long as you want whenever you’re ready. Charles will help you back if you get drunk.” He heard an old woman’s cackle as the wagon moved toward the Indian village hill road. “That’s good. I’ll be there,” he shouted back. Cap walked the short distance toward the no-name billiards parlor and card room. He knew he could find some good whiskey there. He was looking forward to that now. I think I need that drink. Maybe two or three. Then I’ll head next door and look for some women. A loose woman. That’s what I want. Like the one Johnny has. The dog knew where Cap was heading and rushed to the billiards hall, pawing at the door until old Smitty opened it. Behind him the younger man slipped in the door and sat down on the bench. “I may send you home early, Charles. But right now, I want to shoot some billiards. Care for a game? Have Smitty get me some hootch, would you?” The moon moved into place, illuminating the small town. The stars were sparkling with unusual intensity. Soon the Northern Lights would begin their magical work. It was already crispy as winter moved in with its heavy, frigid air to claim its place in this small, remote, railroad town of the 1920s, somewhere deep within the Territory of Alaska.
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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
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 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?”
“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.
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06 February 2011
Chapter 31: "Departing the Camp," Pt 3
Neither Johnny nor Cap had ridden on this type of tram before. The tram operator emphasized the need to duck on approaching the support towers “. . . so as to keep your head from being whacked off.” The aerial tram had a deadly reputation. The trams would kill or injure considerably more men than was ever the case within the underground workings. The tram operator went on with his brief safety lecture.
“People have fallen off or lost their heads or been otherwise mangled so frequently that there were times when management banned the use of the trams by us miners. But this tram and the one at Bonanza are the only practical way to get back and forth. So be very careful out there--and don’t look down. Always look up and foreword, especially near the tram towers.” He ushered them aboard, one at a time. Johnny was the first one on. Frank was the last. The operator separated the empty buckets by only one hundred feet. When the buckets left the 1,800 tunnel, the tram line immediately passed through a long, heavily reinforced timber breakover. Once the riders were free of the break-over, they had a brief glimpse of the three main barracks lined up in a crooked row as they overlooked the Jumbo rock glacier. The cables inclined slightly as they passed over the rock glacier, thus allowing this brief view. Johnny sunk down low into his bucket, pulling his heavy woolen Hudson Bay blanket around himself. It was very brisk out in the open. Then he realized it was bright white everywhere. The snow which fell over the Jumbo mine site three weeks ago was still there. He looked back, noticing the row of three narrow, two-story frame structures. They appeared to be leaning slightly in the direction of the glacier. There were several smaller structures on the slopes above them. He turned completely around. There was Castle Rock, lightly capped in bright white snow a thousand feet above the camp. The skies were turning gray, and the wind was picking up. His steel bucket began swinging as it was hit by a series of heavy gusts, giving him a sudden case of nervousness. One-hundred feet back he saw Cap’s bucket emerge from the break-over. Cap waved and smiled. Johnny felt better. Then the tram took a sudden, heart-stopping dip into a very sharp decline as it began a rapid descent through a narrow opening between two peaks on its way toward the Junction Station, about 8,000 feet down the line from Jumbo. Johnny felt his stomach drop out of himself as his bucket took that quick plunge. Knowing he shouldn’t, he closed his eyes. Fearing sudden death more than the heights, Johnny opened his eyes in time to see that his bucket was on the path of an enormously steep drop-off heading through a series of wooden towers. He didn’t feel so brave today. Below him the snow cover had given way to bare rock. The men would leave the small ore buckets at the mid-point of station no. 3, then take another set of buckets for the remainder of the ride to the mill base. The Glacier tram intersected the Jumbo tram at the station. During most of the 1920s, low-grade ore came down the Glacier tram from the Glacier surface mine during the summertime. The Glacier Mine was an open-pit operation. William Douglass decided to run a Bagley scraper during the three warm months to remove ore which had eroded from the high-grade Bonanza outcropping a thousand feet above the rock glacier. The ore had fallen away from its exposed southern end, which was revealed within the high wall of an old glacial cirque. The copper was mixed with broken host-rock limestone and the ice of a rapidly melting mountain glacier hundreds of feet below. It was this exposed ore which Smith and Warner first discovered a quarter century before, naming it the Bonanza.
Altogether it was a forty-five minute ride to the tram base at the top of the mill. The party arrived one-by-one on the large loading dock near the top of the mill on the twelfth level. The Chitina Indians had never been through the mill. They stood waiting on the landing until Frank’s bucket arrived. He led them toward the front end of the mill where the steep stairway followed a winding route to the Hancock Jig floor, six levels below. This was the center-point of the mill. The Hancock Jig extended out of the long south-face of the mill as an annex. It had a double-door exit with a machine hoist and an exterior stairway leading straight down to the office. The sidewalk continued past the office to the hospital. Frank watched as the two Indians continued on to the hospital. Seeing no reason to follow the two into the hospital, Frank returned to the office. He told John Bittner to begin filling out the paperwork discharging the two men. He heard the phone ring in the next office. The young receptionist came out to Bittner’s window near the main door. “Frank, you better head down there to the hospital to help. Emil has already passed away. Doctor Gillespie tells me that Johnny is beside himself.” Frank sat down for a few moments to fully catch his breath. It had been a record-breaking trip from Erie to the office. Frank looked at his watch. They had made the trip all the way from Erie in barely more than an hour, but they had arrived too late. Now it was left to Frank to somehow comfort Johnny. “Why me ? I’m an engineer.” “You’re their sponsor. You’ve been their friend from the beginning. You took on the responsibility yourself. Now, you’re the one who has to see this through.” It was Bill Douglass’s voice. “Son, I know you’ve been through this before as an officer. You can manage it. Go down there and see what needs to be done. You’ll do the right thing. You’ll do fine.” Russell had slipped quietly down the narrow stairwell from the map room above. “I don’t envy you, Frank. Sorry you had to rush back under these circumstances. Good luck down there.” “Thanks, Russell. When is the Chitina Local leaving?” Bill Douglass spoke up. “We won’t make it today, even though Chris Jensen already has a casket made up. Their Dad’s room at west barrack is available for them. We’ll have to put them up there until tomorrow’s train.” “I’ll walk over there with them, boss.” “Did they bring back their belongings from camp?” “Yes sir. All they have is their bedrolls. They’re Hudson Bay blankets. I think that’s all they brought to Kennecott when they first got here.” Frank stepped outside and noticed that Old Glory was whipping around angrily. It had turned from mildly windy to dark gray and gusty. A movement caught his eye. He looked up above the roof line of the hospital. Four very large ravens were circling high above the hospital, riding the first cold winds of a rapidly approaching winter.
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Chapter 31: "Departing the Camp," Pt 2
Frank walked down the hall of the old building. It was one of the two oldest on the site and was primitive, dark and drafty. The engineers and foremen maintained offices and rooms there. Several years ago the company moved most of the men in the much newer and larger Barracks No. 4. The management and support staff remained in the oldest building. Frank walked down the narrow hallway with the creaking floor to the office in a front corner looking toward the aerial tram. Bill Morris was seated at his large desk examining one of Frank’s engineering drawings.
“Frank. I was just looking at these. It sure doesn’t look like much after what we’re used to here at Jumbo, does it?” “No. There’s not really much out there, Bill. I’ll probably want your men to run some prospect tunnels into each one of them, starting with this third one. It looks like the most promising of the four. “Bill, I got a phone call from the office. I need the battery locomotive ready. Could you call down there and have it waiting for me at the landing? I’m heading to the incline now. Have to go over to the Erie side and bring back the Indians.” “It’s over?” “Looks like it to me, Bill. I’m escorting them back to camp. Emil’s probably not going to make it.” It took ten minutes for Frank to reach the 1,500 level of the Jumbo incline. The operator stood ready with the new rechargeable Westinghouse locomotive pulling five large, empty ore cars. It took another twelve minutes to reach the Erie incline close to the main portal of the camp. Johnny and Cap were working down the new incline near the 300 level where one of the tunnels led to an adit at the surface on a high cliff above Root Glacier. The tunnel opening kept the area well ventilated. Like the other inclines, this one had a stairwell compartment paralleling a set of thirty-inch skip tracks. It proved to be quite a long run down the stairs to the working level at its base. Eldon Johnson was near the landing, supervising the incline extension work crew. “Frank, what a surprise to see you here. Thought you’d be working up on the main level in the new prospect area. Is there a problem?” “Actually, Eldon, there is. I need to have you release Johnny Gadanski and Cap Goodlataw for me. I’ve come to notify him that his father is very ill. We don’t expect him to last. I imagine both he and Cap will be leaving the job for the season under these circumstances. I’ll be escorting them out of here.” “Sorry about Emil. I’ve heard many good things about him, though I don’t personally know the man. I regret even more that we’ll probably lose two of my best men. Oh well, these things happen. I’ll summon them for you and let you tell them.” Eldon turned and headed farther into the darkness of the shaft. Somewhere out of Frank’s sight he could hear Eldon yell out for the two. Like the other miners and muckers, these men were dressed in heavy work clothing and rubber boots suitable for the deep mining environment with its below-freezing temperatures and constant winds running throughout the tunnels. With the helmets they were wearing and the light-colored grime covering them, they were indistinguishable from anyone else in the workings.
“Hello, guys. I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, Johnny, but your father has turned gravely ill. Doctor Gillespie does not expect him to last much longer. The suddenness of it is a surprise to all of us. He’s having extreme trouble breathing. We don’t think he’ll leave the hospital alive.” Johnny stared at Frank, his mouth slowly opening, then he darted straight for the incline shaft, not waiting for Frank. Cap followed. As he brushed past the engineer, he yelled back. “Bastards, you should have told me sooner.” Eldon emerged from the darkness. “We’ll take care of the paperwork at the office. I’m quite sure they won’t be back. I’ve got a long run back up those stairs to catch up with them. They don’t know how to get back to camp the fast way.” Frank rushed back up the incline stairs. Somewhere far ahead he could hear Johnny and Cap running up the thirty-degree shaft toward the main level. It was a long exhausting trek up the new stairwell. Frank sprinted all the way up. By the time the engineer reached the top, he found the two out of breath at the 100 level landing. “Look, Johnny, no one realized how ill your father is. He was still working a few days ago. Then he told us he needed to take some time off. It never occurred to anyone to have him checked. When someone finally found him in his room we rushed him over to the hospital.” Cap, standing behind Johnny, looked toward Frank and signaled with a silent okay sign. Johnny looks very depressed. He seems to have lost his energy. As usual, the two balance each other well. Johnny is far more subject to stress than Cap, I would guess. Cap seems to serve as a buffer to Johnny. Similarly, I’ve seen Johnny hold Cap back from engaging in an unnecessary confrontation with some of the loudmouths we occasionally have working here. “Look, you guys, leaving the mining outfits in the changing room, then get your gear together. I’ll return with you to camp. The fastest way back is not the way you arrived here over the glacier trail. I’ve already got a mine locomotive standing by at the Erie portal. Those iron rails your sitting on that head into the darkness away from Erie extend all the way to the Jumbo incline and beyond. We’ll ride them and hoist to the surface and then ride the aerial tram back down to Kennecott.” Cap looked puzzled. He had never heard of underground locomotives. No one on the present crew had ever seen it. The battery-powered engine would soon begin making regular runs once the Erie incline began sending ore to the 100 level. But Cap nodded and followed Johnny toward the barracks rooms. Frank followed. Up ahead, as the tunnel veered left, the line of five cars stood by. The operator had turned the locomotive around and had moved it to the front, so he could use the headlamp for the return trip. Cap and Johnny both stopped long enough to look at the curiosity, then they rushed off to the barrack. The two Indians showed up at Eldon’s office, where Frank patiently waited. They still had light-colored mine dust grime on their faces. Johnny came in and slumped down into the chair. Cap moved in place behind him. “I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t mean to swear at you like that. I’m sure you can understand. We have our potlatch blankets, which is all we brought with us, and now we need to get back to camp by the fastest way we can. Did you say something to Cap about using the underground locomotive?” “That’s the one you just passed. It’s there just for us, so we can make a fast run to the Jumbo inline, which leads to the surface where an aerial tram will bring us back to camp.” “Then, let’s go.” The two were out the second story door and down the stairs in a flash. They rushed down the covered, elevated board walk for the portal. Inside they passed through a winding corridor, cut very unevenly because it was originally just a prospect hole. The first several hundred feet ran a very crooked line around winzes, raises and prospect drifts before reaching the main haulage tunnel.
The operator waved them aboard. He started to pull out as they boarded, gaining speed until it was silently racing down the long quiet tunnels. The company still had not finished installing the overhead lighting on the Erie end of the new cross-cut. The tunnel was illuminated entirely by the large front-facing lamp as it whirred toward the Jumbo incline 1500 level landing. Frank Buckner had been involved in shooting the line for the new cross-cut connection from the Erie 100 level side on the extreme northwest. The tunnel would have been shot in a straight line except for the presence of the Amazon Gulch rock glacier somewhere overhead. To avoid any problems with the natural grinding glacier action, the engineers veered the tunnel north outside the preferred path. This caused the tunnel to temporarily leave the desired level near the contact zone. Finally the tunnel swung back into place. Somewhere directly ahead in the darkness was the Jumbo incline. The top speed of the battery vehicle was just over ten miles per hour. The group arrived at their destination in ten minutes, even though the tunnel seemed to go on and on. “How much farther does it go, Frank?”
“This tunnel ? When we’re done with it, Cap, this tunnel will end on the far side of the ridge. It’ll be over four miles long, coming out somewhere above McCarthy Creek in a place known as Independence Gulch. It’ll be the longest tunnel in Alaska. Frank, like Johnny and Cap, found himself wanting to get out of the mines as quickly as possible. The Jumbo had a very large incline which dwarfed the one being built at Erie. It was double-tracked so it could hoist in balance. This was necessary due to the projected length of the incline, which was expected to continue down another thousand vertical feet, making it the longest of the incline shafts at over a mile in rail distance. That would be an impossibly long run for a single-track system. Even down to the 1,500 level, the run was considered a long one, as it was over half a mile long. With the hoist-in-balance system, one set of loaded ore buckets moved toward the surface while the other set returned to the ore stopes, which was the working area. The special man-skips were in place when the three men arrived. An attendant was on hand to see them aboard.
He signaled the hoist operator 1,550 feet above. It took another ten minutes to reach the surface, which was the 180 level tunnel. The was the new main adit level, where a large conveyor transported the ore from the end of the skip dump to the ore bins at the back end of the top of the aerial tram. The tram terminus had been moved underground in 1919 to protect the men from the heavy winds and extreme cold temperatures at the surface and to otherwise speed up the tram-bucket loading operation. The men off-loaded from the personnel skip at the upper level and followed the ore conveyor belt to a point near the surface where the top of the Jumbo tram was set to haul ore to the mill. Loaded ore buckets were already on the line ahead of them, moving out in two-hundred-foot intervals. It is the weight of those loads which caused the tram to move down at the proper speed of about five miles per hour. An operator waited at the platform to help them on board. |
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