28 years ago we emigrated to Alaska from Ohio.

Unlike many who come via the Al-Can Highway, we flew in on a 747 from Chicago. We had never flown before and we were excited. We had flown from Columbus on a smaller plane (sorta like the ones I had trouble with on my last trip out :s)

Hubby had flown up two weeks before us to start his job as caretaker of a fish packing plant. Our job that winter was to keep an eye on the plant and on the boats drydocked in the yard.

I had stayed behind to finish closing up the house, selling off the last of the furniture, and say goodbye to my relatives and my friends from church.

The day we left Columbus, Ladybug (3 at the time) left her “uh-oh” (her frazzled pink blankie) in my friend’s car. We didn’t realize until the plane had taken off and she began to scream – something she continued for most of that long trip. (My friend sent it to us as soon as she realized – but those were a long couple of weeks without it.)

We had about 3 hours in Chicago to wait for the next flight. The girls calmed down enough to eat something and begin to people watch with me. Oh – I forgot to add – that was back in the day when people dressed up for planes; I was in heels and dress and dressy coat! (whattanidjit!) And, I was miserable – especially my poor feet.

We boarded the 747 and were delighted at the difference between the two planes. (I think the first was a 727 or something) I remember thinking that if we keep going up in class of plane, this flying stuff is not so bad. (Lessa’s (8 at the time) favorite thing, btw, on the bigger plane was the man who talked with us about his seat “companion”, an atomic clock. )

Ha! and again I say HA!

We arrived in Anchorage late – and we ran to the gate for the connection to Kenai.

and we stopped short when we saw the plane for which we had just run . . . omg! it was TEENY – a twin otter. Sensing a cheechaker (aka cheechako – aka NEWCOMER), the man next to me grinned and recited “AAI, the only way to die” and “oh, look, that’s the one with the square wheel!”

I glared as I calmed first myself and then the girls. He smirked. Nowadays I can appreciate his humor and have found myself saying pretty much the same thing.You know, we just test the mettle of newcomers.

You see, you either ARE or ARE NOT an Alaskan pretty much from the time your feet touch the soil/tarmac/air space. We were – and are – Alaskans. At least, small town Alaskans. Anchorage is just a little Columbus. Fun to visit – fun to shop in – fun to DO things in – but much more fun to LEAVE to come home to little Kenai.

Alaska has been good to us. It has been a great town in which to raise our babies and in which to see our grandbabies grow up. We have made friends (and, probably enemies) here. We rub shoulders with politicians every day – they live in our neighborhoods – and we have NO compunction about getting in their faces about something they did or said.

You know, barely two weeks after our arrival we attended a birthday party of some church friends and met the (at that time) future governor. They’re just people here.

As of today I have lived in only two cities and two states in my life – and have been in each for 28 years. Not many folks can say that. (unless they were born somewhere and never moved from there – but enough about my old classmates!)

Not only have I fallen in love with the people, but with the state. I was land-locked in Ohio – no mountains – no water. Here? We have mountains on either side of us – and water . . . the Kenai River and Cook Inlet. We are blessed. And, I am still in thrall over that blessing of beauty.

 

Alaska – as seen from the plane on the Vegas return trip.

Come on up and visit us, whydontcha.