The Crisp Lake Chronicle 1950
The Crisp Lake Association Board of Directors was presented with the annual environmental award given by the Standard Hauling Institute of Technology Company of Maywood. The institute gave the award this year to the organization that did the most for the community to maintain high standards or excellence concerning the local community.
Details of the reasons of the award were not given but the Chronicle has found out what really happened and that the award was not given to those who are the real deserving.
When Homer Steinbeck first noticed the green and brown sludge looking material oozing out of the drainage line that feeds Crisp Lake he immediately called the health department. The inspector did not know what the problem was so he called the county engineer who was just a confounded and subsequently called the Army Corps of Engineers who was just as baffled. The Independence Health and Roads Department said they would be glad to help but it was out of their jurisdiction.
The Crisp Lake Association board held an emergency meeting and decided the best thing to do was to dam the drainage pipe line and build a hold pond to collect the debris, then they would have the Institute in Maywood haul the waist away. The vote was unanimous, yes build the dam.
The Woman's Axillary of the Crisp Lake Association thought other wise, especially Mrs. Sullivan. She thought that it would be best to get to the root of the problem and not just put a band aid via a dam and holding pond. The male board members told her that the problem was no longer worth looking into, the problem was solved and the source of the whatever would be impossible to trace.
Mrs. Sullivan was determined to find out the real problem. She and some of the auxiliary members met early one morning at the drainage pipe. She tied a rope around her waist and started crawling though the tunnel through the merk and mire. The rope was just in case she got lost in the tunnel and needed to be pulled out. With a flashlight she followed the green and brown sludge to a broken pipe just below a man hole leading to the surface. She stood up, lifted the man hole cover and found herself in the parking lot of the Standard Hauling Institute of Technology. She went directly to the managers office, after cutting the rope and giving it three tugs to let her ladies on the other end know that she was OK, and suggested he follow her back down the man hole. He reluctantly did and that is when he saw that the sewer pipe serving the facility and half of Maywood was draining directly into the pipe and thus into Crisp Lake.
The manager was embarrassed and asked if Mrs. Sullivan would not mention the problem because of the negative publicity. She agreed if the Crisp Lake Association would be given the prestigious award for environmental protection and that the lady auxiliary be given a cash donation.
The men built the dam and the holding pool, the Standard Hauling Institute of Technology kept their reputation in tact, and the Lady's Auxiliary received a nice little cash donation.
This brought to mind an old saying from a book I once read: If you have an impossible task to perform always give it to small children and women, they don't know it can't be done.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Letters From the Last Frontier - Alaska, 1
April 2003
Hi Brother and Sister:
It is 10:30 Wednesday night, a little early to write my weekly up-date about the fun and adventures in the frozen north but nothing else to do.
I can read a newspaper while sitting outside. Why Alaska went to day light savings I have no idea. It does not get dark until around 11 and that wont be the case in a couple of weeks and this summer it really will be the Land of the Midnight Sun.
I have been trying to figure out when I will be coming through Tulsa and Chicago and will let you know later.
I walked down to the beach after school today but it ended up not being a good idea. Walking in the snow for two miles out and back and along the beach sort of wore me out. When I got to the beach I thought so what, I mean how much snow, ice and sea can one see without it becoming sort of meaningless. However I kept telling myself that not everyone goes to Alaska and I wanted the total experience. So walking along the beach along the Bering Sea 4000 miles away from home is sort of unique. I felt a little isolated, I could have dropped dead out there and my body would not be found until the middle of the summer if a wind storm came up.
The one thing I found very strange though was the silence. There was no noise. When was the last time you experienced no noise, nothing, nothing at all? It was really an odd feeling. I kept straining my ears to hear something but there was nothing. It reminded me of part of a poem, "There wasn't a breath in that land of death..." At least it was comforting to realize that I wasn't the first person to experience that, my mind must still be intact.
Love Snapper
Hi Brother and Sister:
It is 10:30 Wednesday night, a little early to write my weekly up-date about the fun and adventures in the frozen north but nothing else to do.
I can read a newspaper while sitting outside. Why Alaska went to day light savings I have no idea. It does not get dark until around 11 and that wont be the case in a couple of weeks and this summer it really will be the Land of the Midnight Sun.
I have been trying to figure out when I will be coming through Tulsa and Chicago and will let you know later.
I walked down to the beach after school today but it ended up not being a good idea. Walking in the snow for two miles out and back and along the beach sort of wore me out. When I got to the beach I thought so what, I mean how much snow, ice and sea can one see without it becoming sort of meaningless. However I kept telling myself that not everyone goes to Alaska and I wanted the total experience. So walking along the beach along the Bering Sea 4000 miles away from home is sort of unique. I felt a little isolated, I could have dropped dead out there and my body would not be found until the middle of the summer if a wind storm came up.
The one thing I found very strange though was the silence. There was no noise. When was the last time you experienced no noise, nothing, nothing at all? It was really an odd feeling. I kept straining my ears to hear something but there was nothing. It reminded me of part of a poem, "There wasn't a breath in that land of death..." At least it was comforting to realize that I wasn't the first person to experience that, my mind must still be intact.
Love Snapper
Monday, November 15, 2010
Appian Way - Camp Darby
A small contingent of National Guard personnel were sent to Camp Darby, Italy to rewrite the defense plan for Livorno.,one of the main sea ports in Italy. I was the Major in charge of rewriting the plan.
We had a lay -over in London for a few hours and were subjected to a high degree of security as only one would suspect for Heathrow. We eventually were notified that our flight to Pisa on Alitalia was ready to board and we proceeded to the appropriate gate. That is when security stopped.
You might say that Italians are a little more lay back than most. We passed through the passenger gate with hardly even a glance from the airline attendants, took whatever seat we wished, received no instructions on how to fasten our seat belts or where our life preservers were, or anything else that might help us survive an un-forseen occurrence. To prevent a hijacking a curtain was drawn across the cabin separating the cockpit and the passenger section. I felt safe, sure.
The attendants were gracious and served all the espresso, biscotto , and wine that we could eat and drink. They were not bad looking either, the attendants not the biscotto. I began to feel safer.
When we landed in at the Aeroporto di Pisa we were left on the runway to pick up our own bags while the other passengers walked to the terminal building. That turned out not to be as bad it sounds. While the rest of the passengers were working their way through customs and machine gun carrying Carabinieri, we shouldered our duffel bags and walked right past everyone. I guess they thought if we were carrying OD duffel's we were OK.
My worst fears were realized when I soon realized there was no one at the airport to meet us. There was not an American uniform in site. I made my way to a public pay phone, figured out how to use it and called Camp Darby and identified myself as if my first name was Major. The operator switched me to the Officer of the Day, a 2LT, who said that they did not expect us until next week. I asked if he thought I ought to camp out on the front lawn and wait. He said he would send someone to pick us up right away.
An hour later a young captain picked us up and wanted to know where we were staying. I said I had no idea and that he better figure something out soon because I had some people who needed food and sleep and I as getting cranky.
He took us to Camp Darby which was about 5 miles away and were shown a cabin that four could sleep in. Unacceptable I informed him. We went to an enlisted mans barracks and found 8 empty beds and I told him that too was unacceptable. I suggested we go to the housing office. The captain explained our plight to a GS whatever, and that accommodations on post were not available. I and my rank and crankiness suggested that we be given off base lodging. Everyone agreed and we were given a government voucher to be used at a hotel in Tirrena, just three miles down the road. Fine I said, but how are we going to get back and forth. No problem the lady said, here is a voucher to rent a car. Later my little entourage and I were driving to the Tirrenia di Navigazione spa over looking a nude beach on the Italian Riviera in a five speed BMW.
I could tell this was going to be a hardship tour.
We had a lay -over in London for a few hours and were subjected to a high degree of security as only one would suspect for Heathrow. We eventually were notified that our flight to Pisa on Alitalia was ready to board and we proceeded to the appropriate gate. That is when security stopped.
You might say that Italians are a little more lay back than most. We passed through the passenger gate with hardly even a glance from the airline attendants, took whatever seat we wished, received no instructions on how to fasten our seat belts or where our life preservers were, or anything else that might help us survive an un-forseen occurrence. To prevent a hijacking a curtain was drawn across the cabin separating the cockpit and the passenger section. I felt safe, sure.
The attendants were gracious and served all the espresso, biscotto , and wine that we could eat and drink. They were not bad looking either, the attendants not the biscotto. I began to feel safer.
When we landed in at the Aeroporto di Pisa we were left on the runway to pick up our own bags while the other passengers walked to the terminal building. That turned out not to be as bad it sounds. While the rest of the passengers were working their way through customs and machine gun carrying Carabinieri, we shouldered our duffel bags and walked right past everyone. I guess they thought if we were carrying OD duffel's we were OK.
My worst fears were realized when I soon realized there was no one at the airport to meet us. There was not an American uniform in site. I made my way to a public pay phone, figured out how to use it and called Camp Darby and identified myself as if my first name was Major. The operator switched me to the Officer of the Day, a 2LT, who said that they did not expect us until next week. I asked if he thought I ought to camp out on the front lawn and wait. He said he would send someone to pick us up right away.
An hour later a young captain picked us up and wanted to know where we were staying. I said I had no idea and that he better figure something out soon because I had some people who needed food and sleep and I as getting cranky.
He took us to Camp Darby which was about 5 miles away and were shown a cabin that four could sleep in. Unacceptable I informed him. We went to an enlisted mans barracks and found 8 empty beds and I told him that too was unacceptable. I suggested we go to the housing office. The captain explained our plight to a GS whatever, and that accommodations on post were not available. I and my rank and crankiness suggested that we be given off base lodging. Everyone agreed and we were given a government voucher to be used at a hotel in Tirrena, just three miles down the road. Fine I said, but how are we going to get back and forth. No problem the lady said, here is a voucher to rent a car. Later my little entourage and I were driving to the Tirrenia di Navigazione spa over looking a nude beach on the Italian Riviera in a five speed BMW.
I could tell this was going to be a hardship tour.
From Alaska - Log 6
Continued from Log 5...
9/30/02
School is going well, at least the preparation of the lesson plans. I seem to have a knack for it. I could improve my presentations I think. I went to the local Covenant Church yesterday. It was a little more interesting than the local Catholic service. The church is headed by a missionary. A relative young couple in their mid or early 40's I suspect. They own an airplane and he teaches natives how to fly along with being a real asset to the community. There is going to be a teachers retreat next week. The sponsoring organization picks you up in a plane and you fly to some location, stay in a cabin, have religious services, and they feed you. It will be a nice change of events.
I am glad I have done this, coming up here, but there is a part of me that wished I hadn't. Seems a long way from home. Over all Paula and I have a pretty good balance on things.
They say it will start snowing soon.
There seems to be a lot of interest in keeping the Yup'ik culture and language alive, the language is about to disappear. But how do you do merge a subsistence life style with the 21st century. The parents want to help and most see the importance of an education but a lot of the time it does not carry over into the classroom. The state is demanding that the kids pass tests to move on to another grade level, and they should but how do they do it.
10/08/02
It snowed today. It came down real hard and blowing in from the sea. A white blanket covered the ground in no time. My first thought was that I hoped it did not effect our TV reception. But within an hour it had stopped. The sun came out, no snow, but did have TV.
The water pump went off for a day or two. No water for the school or our place. Had to walk a quarter of a mile to get water from the center of the village. It got fixed OK.
The village ran out of money and could not pay their 10 city workers for about 2 weeks.
A friend - Jerry, went to Mountain Village for a math conference. He didn't know when he was to supposed to leave, where he was going exactly or where he was staying, or if they would even feed him. Typical Hooper Bay travel arrangements I am told by the veterans here.
Apparently the school is built on an old Eskimo cemetery. There is supposed to a ghost running around. One teacher at least says she has seen it. There is also a story about little people that live out on the Tundra. It is sort of interesting that the same legend about the Little People is told among the Greenland Eskimos. Might make a story about that some day.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371306837&sr=1-1&keywords=tales+from+homer
9/30/02
School is going well, at least the preparation of the lesson plans. I seem to have a knack for it. I could improve my presentations I think. I went to the local Covenant Church yesterday. It was a little more interesting than the local Catholic service. The church is headed by a missionary. A relative young couple in their mid or early 40's I suspect. They own an airplane and he teaches natives how to fly along with being a real asset to the community. There is going to be a teachers retreat next week. The sponsoring organization picks you up in a plane and you fly to some location, stay in a cabin, have religious services, and they feed you. It will be a nice change of events.
I am glad I have done this, coming up here, but there is a part of me that wished I hadn't. Seems a long way from home. Over all Paula and I have a pretty good balance on things.
They say it will start snowing soon.
There seems to be a lot of interest in keeping the Yup'ik culture and language alive, the language is about to disappear. But how do you do merge a subsistence life style with the 21st century. The parents want to help and most see the importance of an education but a lot of the time it does not carry over into the classroom. The state is demanding that the kids pass tests to move on to another grade level, and they should but how do they do it.
10/08/02
It snowed today. It came down real hard and blowing in from the sea. A white blanket covered the ground in no time. My first thought was that I hoped it did not effect our TV reception. But within an hour it had stopped. The sun came out, no snow, but did have TV.
The water pump went off for a day or two. No water for the school or our place. Had to walk a quarter of a mile to get water from the center of the village. It got fixed OK.
The village ran out of money and could not pay their 10 city workers for about 2 weeks.
A friend - Jerry, went to Mountain Village for a math conference. He didn't know when he was to supposed to leave, where he was going exactly or where he was staying, or if they would even feed him. Typical Hooper Bay travel arrangements I am told by the veterans here.
Apparently the school is built on an old Eskimo cemetery. There is supposed to a ghost running around. One teacher at least says she has seen it. There is also a story about little people that live out on the Tundra. It is sort of interesting that the same legend about the Little People is told among the Greenland Eskimos. Might make a story about that some day.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371306837&sr=1-1&keywords=tales+from+homer
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Remembrance
Strangely enough I found my military stuff and the clerk's name was Bessie Crose until 1970 when she married and became Bessie Chitwood. A real "sweetheart" to say the least.
This is not much about collecting things for WWII and I didn't know about this at all until my late brother (Newton Brown) contributed this piece for my mom's memorial service. His son (my nephew) wrote it down and we included it so it isn't really much and I don't know any more than what is here -between the asterisks - I imagine lots of families did the same thing:
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Oldest son Newton well remembers "Den Mother Margaret" baking cookies for her young charges and how they spent many hours over an old table doing various craft projects to keep little minds occupied. During World War II, Margaret could be found with Newton going up and down the streets of Fairmount, pulling a little wagon, collecting cans, bacon grease and other materials for use in the War Effort. They would obtain feedsacks from a local store to make shirts, towels and other things that could be useful at home.
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""Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake."
-Napoleon Bonaparte
***********************************************************************
Bear'ly Friends - Alaska
One day I was reading in the Anchorage Daily News about a man who was walking his dog near the military base that bumps up to the city limits of Anchorage. It was not the wilderness by any means.
All of a sudden a big Brown bear jumped out onto the wooded path. He (the man walking the dog not the bear) immediately pulled out his .357 magnum and several shots later the bear lay dead. Several things came to my mind after reading the article. I had seen moose walk along the side of the road in Anchorage proper, a friend of mine said she could not keep a garden in the suburbs because moose would eat up her planting, and I could not remember the last time I walked a dog and carried a gun.(of course many do that today in Arizona and several other states all the time I hear.)
There were no bears in Hooper Bay. There were bears in Pitka's Point and Noatak. I use to ask the villagers how they protected themselves against the bears when they would go out berry picking. They told me they didn't worry about it and if they did come across a bear they just left it alone.
Some of my students at Pitka's Point told me that one night a bear did come into the village and wondered around. They had been outside playing and to keep out of the Bear's way they took refuge in an abandoned house and waited for the bear to go away.
I have a phobia about being eaten by a bear so that hindered my exploring the country side. I am sure I missed out on a lot of things by not communing with nature but a bear is a bear and I know I could not out run one even if my legs became unfrozen after I stumbled onto one.
In Pitks's Point it was about 100 yards from my front door to the school's main entrance. I seldom ventured out after the sun went down and when I did I was cautious. Call me silly and you can tell me about the probability of not being eaten by a bear all you want, but it is like people who buy lottery tickets weekly. The odds of winning are stacked against them but try telling that to the guy who won last week. It is the same as the chances of being eaten by a bear or a shark for that matter (I never swim in anything I cannot see the bottom of ), someone always wins and I would just as soon it not be the bear.
So how do the villagers manage their fear? Do they fear an attack at all? It does happen you know, at least enough to make the paper or Internet.
I decided to ask one of the elders if he was afraid or did he just "leave them alone." He was wise, most elders are. He said you have to respect the bear. "The bear has a spirit and there are good spirits and there are bad ones. If you respect the bear and understand that we are all bears, ravens, moose, rabbits, and salmon, we all just have different skins. We leave each other alone and the spirits we have blend and we become one. We all have animal spirits and all the animals have human spirits." "At last," I thought to myself, I should have talked to this guy many months ago.
He then said one more thing that brought everything in to perspective and focus and provided me with a touch of Eskimo wisdom that I shall carry with me for the rest of my day.
"It also helps," he said, "that when you are walking across our great land, enjoying what the great Eagle and Raven have made, that you walk with a friend, a close friend, a friend that you have known for many years, a friend you know that you can run faster than."
All of a sudden a big Brown bear jumped out onto the wooded path. He (the man walking the dog not the bear) immediately pulled out his .357 magnum and several shots later the bear lay dead. Several things came to my mind after reading the article. I had seen moose walk along the side of the road in Anchorage proper, a friend of mine said she could not keep a garden in the suburbs because moose would eat up her planting, and I could not remember the last time I walked a dog and carried a gun.(of course many do that today in Arizona and several other states all the time I hear.)
There were no bears in Hooper Bay. There were bears in Pitka's Point and Noatak. I use to ask the villagers how they protected themselves against the bears when they would go out berry picking. They told me they didn't worry about it and if they did come across a bear they just left it alone.
Some of my students at Pitka's Point told me that one night a bear did come into the village and wondered around. They had been outside playing and to keep out of the Bear's way they took refuge in an abandoned house and waited for the bear to go away.
I have a phobia about being eaten by a bear so that hindered my exploring the country side. I am sure I missed out on a lot of things by not communing with nature but a bear is a bear and I know I could not out run one even if my legs became unfrozen after I stumbled onto one.
In Pitks's Point it was about 100 yards from my front door to the school's main entrance. I seldom ventured out after the sun went down and when I did I was cautious. Call me silly and you can tell me about the probability of not being eaten by a bear all you want, but it is like people who buy lottery tickets weekly. The odds of winning are stacked against them but try telling that to the guy who won last week. It is the same as the chances of being eaten by a bear or a shark for that matter (I never swim in anything I cannot see the bottom of ), someone always wins and I would just as soon it not be the bear.
So how do the villagers manage their fear? Do they fear an attack at all? It does happen you know, at least enough to make the paper or Internet.
I decided to ask one of the elders if he was afraid or did he just "leave them alone." He was wise, most elders are. He said you have to respect the bear. "The bear has a spirit and there are good spirits and there are bad ones. If you respect the bear and understand that we are all bears, ravens, moose, rabbits, and salmon, we all just have different skins. We leave each other alone and the spirits we have blend and we become one. We all have animal spirits and all the animals have human spirits." "At last," I thought to myself, I should have talked to this guy many months ago.
He then said one more thing that brought everything in to perspective and focus and provided me with a touch of Eskimo wisdom that I shall carry with me for the rest of my day.
"It also helps," he said, "that when you are walking across our great land, enjoying what the great Eagle and Raven have made, that you walk with a friend, a close friend, a friend that you have known for many years, a friend you know that you can run faster than."
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