Alaska's Treasure

My father, a Chief in the US Navy, was assigned to Kodiak, Alaska, from December 1955 to July 1959. I was 12 years old when we left there. By the time the Good Friday 1964 earthquake changed the state's topography forever, we were living in Minnesota. For the next 30+ years I dreamed of going back to see the place I loved as a child, to find out how the island fared, especially the “beach house” where we lived for about two of those years. Oh, the memories that the phrase “Buskin Beach” evoked! With no internet to help, I collected travel brochures and magazines, planning and re-doing my trip. My goal always focused on being in Kodiak. In 1996 I realized my dream. My basic itinerary was to fly to Anchorage, take the Alaska Railroad to Seward, and then take the state ferry to Kodiak, reversing the steps to return home. Thanks to a travel agent at Dayton’s Department Store, my transportation, connections, and lodging were just as they needed to be. (She was quite surprised when I presented the banker’s box of material—she thought she might just sell me a package tour. But there was no tour that met my list of requirements, one being that I would be in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night in order to see the magnificent expanse of the twinkling stars in the northern sky. That didn’t happen, though. On the way to Kodiak via the MV Tustumena the fog and mist were so dense one couldn’t see thirty feet above the top deck, and on the return voyage it poured.) Otherwise my two-week odyssey was everything I wanted it to be—and then some. My childhood memories were refreshed and many questions answered. But I never imagined the treasures of the four-hour train ride from Anchorage to Seward, and ultimately back again. The train, painted in the colors of the state flag—blue and gold (blue representing the color of the sea, the evening sky, the lakes, and the flowers, and gold, representing the sourdoughs’ dreams and the stars in the northern sky)--ran close to the coast for quite a way; Highway 1 was nearby. Wildlife abounded; we stopped more than once until a moose would decide it was our turn to use the track. The scenery changed from coastal to inland, unfolding as if being filmed for an opening movie scene (think: “The Sound of Music”). I rode in the coach on the way out; on the way back I stood at the safety rail on the last car, as if watching a movie in “rewind,” etching Alaska's vast majesty in my heart and mind forever.