Where to now? I had all the money I ever needed.....
After my stint on the pipeline, I felt like I had all the money I would ever need in life. What should I do next?
Well, I didn’t really believe that, but it felt that way. I was in my twenties and had more money than most people my age. With the pipeline work finished, what was next? Leaving Alaska was the obvious answer. Escaping this rugged, harsh (though beautiful) place had always been a long-term dream.
Alaska is an unforgiving place. You had to be tough to live there, especially back then. There were no malls or places to shop, and the grocery stores were only a little bigger than a 7-11.
I wanted to buy shoes! I wanted to look pretty. I often thought of Dolly Parton, who talked about buying all the wigs, clothes, and shoes after her growing up so poor. Imagine, no one to tell you what you can or can't do, you destiney was in your own hands now.
We only had two clothes outfits a year for school: two pairs of jeans, a few shirts, one pair of shoes, and one pair of boots. There was no such thing as back-to-school shopping for us. My shoes were those ugly black saddle shoes, but they didn’t even have a saddle. They were just plain ugly not to mention embarrassing! I used to wash my clothes by hand at night. Since we didn’t have a washer or dryer, you can imagine that by morning, they were still wet.
You had no choice, so you put them on anyway. Then you’d go out in sub-zero temperatures to wait for the bus. By the time the buss arrived, your clothes would be frozen, and you could barely move to climb on the bus.
There was no birthdays no christmas to speak of (a hope for more clothes). Did I want to leave all those bad memories behind—the cold and the brutality of Alaska as I knew it? Absolutely.
There was good hidden in that life however (aside from my brother). There were two places I found peace and solitude as a child. One was at school, where I felt safe, surrounded by friends I loved. Most classmates couldn’t wait for the school bell to ring at the end of the day. For them, it meant going home and having fun. For me, it meant dread. My stomach would turn because I never knew what I would face at home: a kind father or a brutal one. I came to learn quickly that it solely depended on how his day had gone.
Some days, he would beat us for no reason. It’s graphic, but he used a horse whip, which he kept on top of the refrigerator. Just seeing it there terrified us. What was even more frightening was the blood on it.
The second place of solitude was the banks of the Knik River, about a mile from our house. I would ride my ten-speed—the first and only bike I ever owned, which I bought with money I earned at a local newspaper office—to get there. The Knik River was about 100 yards wide and flowed from the Knik Glacier, roughly 20 miles upstream. Watching the rushing water was soothing. I’d ride my bike there in any weather, rain or shine, summer or winter. Sometimes, I’d sit there for hours (depending on the cold), finding great peace.
Did I want to run and escape those memories, now that I had all the money and freedom in the world? Absolutely!
I had ordered a custom Chevrolet Silverado pickup in Washington—Alaska didn’t have many car dealerships, so you had to go to the lower 48 to buy a car. It was top of the line, with every bell and whistle you could imagine. I flew to Seattle to pick up my truck, carrying all my worldly possessions in a single suitcase. Where did I go from there?
Welcome to the beginning of my odyssey.
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