1965 to 1967: Sourdough Billy

Alaska, what a change from Arizona! One of the first things I noticed was that the farther North we traveled the older the Comics were. By the time we got to Anchorage, I was seeing Superman and Batman and flash comics still on the shelf that I had read Months before, which meant I would have to wait months for the latest issues to catch up to me. And chocolate, it seemed all of the chocolate had undergone some hideous transformation on the way to Alaska that turned it white. And Milk…my beloved milk was not to be found anywhere! Instead, they had something called “Reconstituted” Milk that quite obviously bore little resemblance to real milk. It would be over a year before I’d again taste milk as I remembered it and what a wonderful thing it was. And TV, there were only 3 television channels and I think one went off at around 8 and another at 10 PM. Off, nada, gone, no TV through the night…what manner of Hell had they brought me to?? And the shows that were on were ones I had already seen mostly, I quickly found out that Alaska lagged far behind the “Lower 48” in many ways. TV shows made the trip up the highway just as we had, the Nightly News only lagged behind by a day as they flew news footage up on an airplane. And as thrilled as I had been to see COLOR on my Uncle Red’s TV down in California Alaska had not yet reached that level of sophistication, it would be several more years before Color made its way into the Alaskan airwaves, I remember well the debate on the news about what color the Batcar would be, red or blue.

We arrived in Anchorage a few days ahead of when Dad had to report in so we went exploring. Dad drove down almost every road we saw it seemed, and when he came to a sign that said something to the effect of “NO TRESPASSING: US ARMY PROPERTY” he said “I’m Army” and drove on by. We were soon passing through a gate and were directed to park the car and camp trailer and Dad was escorted into the Guard Shack. I pulled out the binoculars and was scanning the flats just below us and exclaimed to Mom “Look, there are missiles down there!” Mom turned, with a look of horror on her face and snatched the spyglasses from me. I suppose being arrested for espionage was not the best way to meet the new Commander. After what seemed like hours, and undoubtedly several phone calls and much rummaging through the stuff in the trailer the nice Army guys let us leave Point Wornzof and I’m sure as soon as we were out of the Area of Operation the Nuclear Missiles rose back out of the blueberry bogs.

We set up camp at Bird Creek Campground just south of Anchorage and Helen and I went exploring. When the tide went out the Turnagain Arm turned into a giant mudflat. we went out on the flats and were delighted by the way the mud bounced as we jumped on it and started turning to quicksand. We would find out that that is exactly what it was doing and we were lucky not to have become hopelessly mired in the mud and drowned by the incoming tide as many others had been before and after us.

Dad and Mom went fishing in Bird Creek and dad hooked into a Salmon. Not having a salmon rod didn’t stop him, neither did his trout rod snapping in half slow him down, he grabbed the line and started winding it with his hands.

We would stay at Bird Creek the allotted week or so and then move to Peters Creek Campground, then to Eagle River Campground and back to Bird Creek until finally we were given temporary housing on Ft Richardson. Just down the street from the temporary housing there was a big grassy hill. Helen and I got cardboard boxes and made it a “sledding hill”, at least until the Post Command Sgt Major sent word down that he wanted to talk to the sponsor of the kids desecrating his finely manicured grass. Some people just don’t know how to have fun!

Housing finally had an opening and we moved into our permanent quarters. A two-story affair where I got to have my own room, in the basement beside the freezer. One day while out exploring the reservation back roads Mom spotted a Raven flopping around with a broken wing and insisted that Dad rescue him. He came to live with us setting up residence on top of the freezer until his wing healed enough that he could fly away under his own power.

Mom put aluminum foil on the windows so the almost constant daylight wouldn’t keep me awake. I loved being able to play in the woods long after the sun would have set in Arizona. Out by the back gate there was a “banana chopper” frame sitting in the woodline where it had crashed some years before. I would spend hours inside flying my chopper. One day while passing Bruckner Field house on the way home from my chopper I stopped to sit and swing on a chain across the driveway. The next thing I know I’m laying on the ground looking at the sky. I get up and start home again and realize that my head hurts. I put my hand on the back of my head and feel a large rock which I pull out and then feel again and there is a hole where the rock had been. When I get home Mom is much more upset than I am and carefully washes the remaining dirt out of my wound.

Dad went out hunting with some of his Army buddies shortly after it snowed. He was always an avid reader and had of course taken a book with him. The second morning of the hunt the others took off ‘hunting’ and dad remained in camp sitting by the fire and reading his book. He looked up to see a Bull Moose wandering into camp, he reached over and picked up his rifle from where it was resting against a tree and shot the Moose without getting out of his chair. he was always kinda lucky that way. After the Moose was brought home and properly cleaned Mom had sat some entrails on the porch in a garbage bag and it had frozen overnight. She told me to grab the bag and pull it up while she poured hot water around it. That worked fine but I found that I was now frozen solid to the concrete porch holding a bag of frozen Moose guts. Mom repeated the hot water trick and I was able to transfer the guts to the garbage bin.

Helen and I went to a showing of an old Vincent Price movie at the Post Theater on Halloween night. Helen sat through most of what little we saw with her hands covering her face, at least until I demanded we leave…that was a looonnng walk home. The Post Theater was in the same area as the PX and the huge parking lot there was used by remote control airplane hobbyists.  I was there watching one afternoon while a guy was flying a huge RC Model bomber around. Suddenly he started cursing and frantically flipping switches and control levers. I watched as the bomber made a slow, wide turn and crashed into the side of the PX. I thought it was awesome, the guy flying didn’t seem to share my joy.

I had to walk to school about 6 blocks. Great in the summer, not so great in the winter. Mom tried putting bread bags on my feet so my shoes would not be wet when I got to school, did not work so good.

There was a Merry-Go-Round at the school and I went there one Saturday and as I ran up to the merry-go-round I tripped and face planted and bit through my lower lip. My teeth hurt worse than my lip but at least I did not break them.

Little sister Sue was following Mom out to the car and just as Mom slammed the big artic door shut Sue reached back and stuck her hand in the door. She got a couple of fingers cut off and Mom rushed her to the hospital where they stitched them back on. For the next month or two or three we were not allowed to upset Sue in any way as she healed up. She milked the shit out of that episode I can assure you.

Uncle Don came up to stay with us shortly before we were due to leave. We would go hiking up Eagle River Canyon and he would stop to paint while I explored.

When it finally came time to leave we all got in a Buick Station Wagon and headed back out the highway. I remember Uncle Don was terrified of the Northern Lights that came out as we drove through the Yukon and he hid under a blanket in the back of the station wagon.

We got to Guerneville and Uncle Don took me for a ride on his Honda 50. We must have went through some Poison Ivy because I came down with the worst case I ever had. Almost my entire body was covered and the only relief was to sit in a bathtub full of calamine lotion.  The entire trip back North until we got to Portland all I could really remember was Motel bathtubs. I do remember my penis got huge, unfortunately, it did not remain that way.

Dad got a job with the Bonneville Power Administration and we settled into a two story house across from a Catholic School in Lake Oswego. Snoopy would chase the Nuns across the field and I’d sit in the 2nd story window laughing at the Sisters as they hiked their habits and ran across the field beside the house with Snoopy nipping at their heals.

I was watching/helping Dad work on the Buick in the back yard and eating cherries off the huge cherry tree. Dad took a cherry and cut it open and showed me the worm inside. I stopped eating the cherries.