Ouzinkie
 

While walking along First Avenue in Seattle, we saw a little pup in the window of a shop.  We stopped and watched him for some time.  We walked on and while we were waiting for a green light at the next street crossing, Dorothy said, “Let’s go back and look at that cute little pup again.” I was having the same thoughts, so back we went.  It happened to be a barbershop window.  I asked the barber how much he was asking for the pup?  He said, “Five dollars.”  I handed the man a five-dollar bill.  Dorothy picked up the pup and she was our dog for the next fourteen years.  

The northbound ship was about ready to move out. People were lining up waiting to go on board. We were in line and Dorothy was holding our new pup.  When it came our turn to pass the officer checking tickets, he told Dorothy that she would have to have the dog in a crate.  Wow!

We had to be on this ship in order to make connection with a local ship at Seward to take us out to Kodiak.  We stepped out of line feeling very much bewildered.  Looking around we wondered what to do.  I saw some boxes and crates over on the side of the dock that looked like they had been discarded and were waiting for the trash collector.  One crate-type box with a lid looked large enough, so we put our new puppy into it.  She had plenty of room.  I rushed her over to where they were loading the baggage, and presented our tickets and the crate to the one in charge.  The only comment he made was, “It looks as if this dog will have plenty of room.”  We ran back to the passenger lines just in time to go on board ourselves.  The trip back to Alaska was a normal but pleasant ride. After so many years with the Alaska Indian Service, it seemed as if we were going home. 

When we docked at Seward, Alaska there was the SS Star at the same dock. This was to be a new adventure for us.  We had never been to Kodiak Island before.  We had time to check our crated puppy and to transfer our baggage before the SS Star signaled they were ready to leave. It was only a two and a half day trip out to the town of Ouzinkie, our destination. 

On the morning of the second day I went down to the cargo deck (on these local Alaska boats they are more accommodating than they are on the main liners) to check on our pup. The lid was off and the crate was empty. Our new pup was gone.  We had not given her a name as yet.  There was no way I could call her back.  What was I going to tell Dorothy?  I started to retrace my steps.  My path led past the galley where the crew was eating.  Glancing through a porthole, I saw my lost puppy sitting in the center of one of the tables, wagging her tail to beat the band while the crew fed her cookies.   

I opened the door and spoke to the nearest crewmember saying, “I was looking for my pup and was fearful she had fallen overboard, but I see where she is now.”

“We will not let her go overboard.” He added, “Don’t put her back in that crate.  We will look after her.  She is some dog!” That was good news to take back to Dorothy. 

The small community of Ouzinkie began to show up on the distant shoreline.  The large salmon cannery building and the warehouse belonging to Mr. Grimes were the first dominant buildings we could see.  Then on a small hill to the right of the community was a neat and well-painted Russian Orthodox Church.  The backside of a store building on the waterfront, also the property of Mr. Grimes, could also be seen at the beachfront.  Further back was an assortment of log houses mingled in with miscellaneous fruit trees.  There was a lot of standing timber forming a backdrop to the cluster of houses.  Almost surrounded by tall trees was a large white building. It was so much different from any of the other buildings that it attracted our attention.  “That must be the school building,” Dorothy said.   Our living quarters would be in connection with the school building.               

As we approached the dock the pilot brought the Star around in a graceful circle up to the dock.  A seaman threw a line to the dock, and two longshoremen made the ship’s lines fast.  The gangplank was lowered and we were in Ouzinkie, Alaska.  There was an elderly man supervising the placing of the cargo being sent ashore from the ship.   We assumed that he was Mr. Grimes.   We were the only passengers disembarking from the ship.  Dorothy and I went over and introduced ourselves. 

He gave us a warm welcome and said, “Stop by the store and ask for the keys to the school.”  It was only a short walk to the end of the dock.  There was only one store.  The bell, over the door jingled as we entered, and a lady appeared.  We introduced ourselves once more.

“Oh,” she said, “You probably want the keys.” 

She reached beneath the counter, and handed me two keys on a ring.  We also learned, in our short conversation with her, that she had taught school under the Territorial School System in the little log building with broken windows that stood just across the street from the store. 

The path began where the cannery dock stopped and extended back from the waterfront.  As we left the store we could see the school building about two blocks back, standing in the edge of the tall timber. We had our choice of two keys.  We chose the smaller key, assuming it was for the back door.  We wanted to see our living quarters first.  Our guess was right.  The door led us into a short hallway and then further into a very nicely arranged kitchen.  On looking back we saw that the entryway through which we had just entered was also the laundry room with a washer and dryer.

The kitchen led on into a dining room and living room. From a door opening off of the dining room was a bedroom.  The quarters seemed to be well furnished with the usual furniture.  We were separated from the two schoolrooms by a large entrance, which served both the living quarters and the schoolrooms.   The schoolrooms were identical, with the exception that the desks were a little smaller in one.  As we took a second look into the room with the larger desks, Dorothy spotted a piano over in the corner. 

She said, “Oh goodie, goodie, I’ll have a piano.”  We were pleased with what we saw. The rooms were ready for school, and we were to start the coming Monday.   

When we unlocked the front door and looked toward the docks we saw that Mr. Grimes had a crew of men bringing our freight and baggage up from the dock, using wheelbarrows.  I had opened the door just in time.  I stepped out and directed the first man, who had a load of canned goods to take all food items to the back kitchen door.  Dorothy came out to take over my job of directing where things should go.  The little pup was with her, sporting a collar and a string leash.  She seemed to adjust to all of the excitement, and went around with us to inspect her new home.  I found it nice to be working with people who spoke and understood English.   With six wheelbarrows working it didn’t take long until we were all moved in.

While Dorothy looked over the grocery boxes for something to fix for supper I returned to the dock to check with Mr. Grimes and to settle for the dock fees and the longshoremen for their labor. As I turned to leave the dock Mrs. Grimes slid her kitchen window open.  She had a kitchen window right where she could see everyone who either went on the dock or returned from the dock. 

She asked me if Dorothy and I would like to come down for supper.  She added, “She is probably looking through all of those boxes for something to fix for dinner.  Tell her we will be ready to sit down to eat by the time you get here.” That was good news and I knew Dorothy would be happy to come.  She had located a sack of dog food and was feeding the pup when I arrived back home.  We left the pup to explore her big new home.

The meal was very enjoyable.  There was one other guest.  We did not know there was a Baptist Missionary in the community.  We were introduced to Miss Setzie, a young lady operating a boarding mission for young children.   Her mission building was located to the left of our schoolhouse and was not visible from the docks due to some trees.  After the favorable evening we felt confident that we were off for a good start here at Ouzinkie.

Unpacking and checking was always a major job following each fall shipment of school supplies.   This was to be easy compared to some of our school stations.  The fact that we were to have a weekly ship in port throughout the year was going to be a new experience.   Getting mail once a week was going to be a lot different from the four mail deliveries a year that we experienced at Wainwright. 

The school had been under the Territory of Alaska jurisdiction and had maintained about the same schedule as the schools in the States, so we were going to follow the same schedule.  We were so close to the opening date on the day we arrived that we were going to have to push things a little to open on time.  After the new shipment of supplies had been opened and placed on the shelves things did not look so bad.  We did not have a big bell to ring that first Monday morning, so I stood out on the steps and rang the hand bell vigorously. 

Children came running from all directions.  They all knew just where to go.  Dorothy was ready to greet the lower grades. Before they could find seats Dorothy said, “Let’s all go into the ‘big’ room where the piano is and sing a little.” Dorothy was on the ball with the music for that age group, and we sang longer than necessary, but every one was enjoying it. 

Returning to our respective rooms we settled down to a little more serious business of getting the school year under way. We let them go at noon, if they would promise to come back the next day.    During our lunch break we discussed the type of children we had enrolled.  They definitely were not Indian or Eskimo.  Many of them had light blond hair with blue eyes. Then we got into the history of the people. 

Ouzinkie was originally a Russian settlement.  Before the United States purchased Alaska, Ouzinkie was a prosperous Russian community.  There was an active ship building industry and fur trading business.  Most of the older people, the grandparents of our school children, were direct from Russia and still spoke the Russian language.  Their log houses and gardens looked like the pictures of similar communities in Russia.

Another interesting factor relating to the history of Ouzinkie occurred back in 1914 with the eruption of Mt. Katmai, located north of the Kodiak Islands on the shoulder of the Aleutian Peninsula.  Mr. and Mrs. Grimes were living here at the time, starting a small trading post.  Without warning dense black cloud overhead began to drop ash.  This was not just a little ash but a blinding black fallout.  They felt their way back into their little shack and lit their lantern, the only means of light they had.   Before long the oil in their lantern ran out and they had no way to replenish it.  They sat there in the dark until a group of men from a coast guard ship dug them out.  They had been three days in the dark.  The ash had fallen to a depth of 14 inches.

The people living in the community removed the ash from their property by wheeling it down to the beach and dumping it in the bay.  The ground around the school had been cleared but out in the woods the ash that fell back in 1914 was still evident.  The stumps of the trees that had been cut prior to that time wore white cones of ash measuring fourteen inches.

Broad trails leading out from the center of the community had been developed over the years, giving access to areas up and down the beach and across to the back side of the island.  We lived on a small island about six miles long and a mile wide in places separated from the big island of Kodiak by about ten yards of water during low tides.  This location was picked by the Russians because of the excellent harbor and a forest of fine timber available for shipbuilding.  Dorothy and I spent many of our weekends exploring the island and locating places where the Russians had been active during their occupation.

We named our little pup Kopsinick, an Eskimo word meaning ‘how many’.  She adapted very well to being a schoolteacher’s dog.  We left her in our quarters during the school hours, and let her have the run of the backyard as soon as the children had gone home.  She had a big area of woods to explore in our backyard.  On weekends when we were exploring the beach areas, she had the freedom to run.  She responded very well to our voice control.

One Saturday morning we saw two guests from the Juneau office on the dock visiting with Mr. Grimes.  They were passengers on the SS Star, which was in port on its weekly run.   The guests from the office were on other business farther down the line and had just stopped in to say “hello.”  They were pleased with the way the two schoolrooms looked for a Saturday morning.  They also hinted at the possibility of a carpenter’s crew coming by to look at the building.

Things went very smoothly clear up to two days before Christmas vacation.  We had what we thought was a very nice Christmas program planned. Two days before the program was scheduled, Dorothy came down with a bumper case of mumps.   Not only was she not feeling well, but also her face was swollen very badly. There was no question about her diagnosis. I voted that she go back to bed and keep out of sight until after Christmas. 

What was I going to do now?  I went down to the store to consult with Mrs. Grimes.  She had been in the school business much longer than either one of us.  Her suggestion was to ask Setze of the Baptist Mission.   Setze agreed and came to run through the program with the children.  The Christmas Program was a nice one.   Dorothy recovered during the vacation and we were able to complete the year without any other bad incidents.

School was out so what was next on our program?  Mrs. Grimes had totaled up the results of the community pie supper held some time back.  It totaled up a little over one hundred dollars.  Handing it to me she said it was for me to spend on some school project.  I had just completed our spring inventory and submitted our annual order for next year.  What else did we need?

Taking my drawing board I drew up plans for a school workshop where the boys could work during the latter part of the day while the girls were doing sewing.  The cost of lumber would be about one hundred dollars.   I talked it over with Mr. Grimes.  He thought it would be a good idea only he said I had not included the cost of labor.  I told him I would furnish the labor.  He and Mrs. Grimes were not used to having a school teacher who was on a government salary twelve months during the year. 

My order for building materials was placed with a small sawmill over on neighboring Afognak Island.   It was not long before a small ship was unloading lumber on the dock.   Some of the older boys from the local mission had fun helping me move it up to the school.   Two men arrived on the next trip of the SS Star who announced they were government contractors from the Office of Indian Affairs in Juneau.  They were expecting to do some remodeling on the present school building.  They planned to add a third schoolroom and living quarters for a community nurse.  They also said they were a week in advance of their material, but would like to look the situation over. 

When they saw the pile of new lumber, which I had just received, they asked, “What is that?” 

I explained my plans to build a shop.  After looking at my drawings for the shop and the place where I was planning to build they said, “What would you think if we built this shop, using your materials?  Then we could use the shop while we are doing the rest of the construction work on your building.” 

The suggestion seemed like a good one to me.  The two carpenters went right to work on the shop building, and within a week they were putting on the roof.   It made an ideal workshop for them because Ouzinkie was not noted for many sunny days.

When school was ready in the fall we had a three-room school building, a clinic and living quarters for a nurse.  The new workshop became a popular place for the older boys.  Just to try out the new shop I purchased material from the cannery and built myself a boat during the month of August.  Of course I had plenty of help from some of the older boys from the mission.  It was a good summer school project for them, and they didn’t know they were going to summer school.   The boat was finished and launched in plenty of time for Dorothy and me to make several exploratory weekend trips around the bays and inlets of the larger island of Kodiak.  We frequently saw tracks of the large Kodiak Bears along the sandy beaches as we explored some of the remote inlets, but we never saw a bear. 

All of our time was not taken up with building a boat.  There were days when we scheduled active programs for the school kids of the community.  One such project was a hike to a lake up high on one of the mountains in back of town.  Dorothy could not go on the day scheduled, so I went with a group of seventh and eighth grade kids.  The trail was well marked but steep in places.  I was amazed at the number of beautiful flowers we found along the trail.  After a final huff and puff we reached the lake.  The view from the rim of the lake was marvelous. We could look back over a large view of water and bays.  To my surprise the lake was still frozen up there.  

I knew from experience what spring ice on fresh water was like; it was dangerous!  I called the group around me and said, “The ice is dangerous. It is black ice, and black ice is very dangerous this time of year.  Please don’t anyone set foot on the ice.”  I tried to distract them from the ice so I said, “Let’s eat.”

I started to open my brown lunch bag when I heard a scream behind me.  Looking around there was a girl up to her neck in the water.   Throwing off my coat I started out to help her.  When only part way out I heard two other screams.   There were three more kids in deep water.   I very hastily pulled the first girl out far enough so she could finish climbing out herself.  Then I rushed over to where two small boys and a girl were clutching the ice and trying to keep their heads above water.  I broke the ice and reached the two boys first.  The girl was much farther out.  I had to break the ice and swim a short distance before reaching her.  She was a little blond Russian girl with big blue eyes.   I still remember her trying to hold on to the ice with both hands, calling “Don’t let me drown, Mr. Arnold.”

We finished our picnic lunch and made a hasty return home. One little boy picked up my wet coat where I had dropped it, and started for home ahead of the rest of the group.  He must have run all the way since he arrived about a half an hour before we did.  I heard that he ran up to the school building and said, “Here is Mr. Arnold’s coat.  He went through the ice!”  Dorothy was still standing in the entryway to the school building, holding my wet coat when I arrived.  Needless to say she had received a severe shock and was glad to see me coming up the trail on my own two feet.       

The fall session of school opened on schedule.  There was a third teacher, a young lady from Afognak Island, just out of school, whom Dorothy took under her wing.   Dorothy had her helping with the younger kids.   She was eager to learn and was a big help with the primary group. 

The fall weather was exceptionally good and we had several exploratory trips on Friday afternoons.   Dorothy and I were amazed at the variety of flowers still blooming along the beaches.  Most of them were a blue tulip-type of blossom.   On one Friday’s nature trip we found a beautiful white blossom.  All the other blossoms had been blue.  

Sunday morning, December 7th, dawned clear and promised to be a good day.  Dorothy and I were up early and decided to take a morning hike back along the beach trail that we had followed on Friday.   Remembering the white flower of Friday, I picked up a garden trowel as we passed the new shop building.  We had no problem finding the plant with the white flower.  I carefully dug it up with a good root ball, and we started home.

When we came out of the woods in to the clearing around the village we saw an unusual number of people out in their yards talking to their neighbors.   I turned to Dorothy and asked, “What’s the excitement?”    A group of school kids saw us and came running.  “Turn on your radio!  Turn on your radio!” they shouted.  We went into the house and turned on our radio and heard every station blasting out the same message,  “THEY ARE BOMBING PEARL HARBOR!” 

The Hawaiian Islands are almost directly south of the section of Alaska where Ouzinkie is located.  We did not know if Japan knew where we were, but Washington, DC remembered.  That very day orders came through via the Juneau office to “Black out the community of Ouzinkie,” which we did with the cooperation of Mr. Grimes and his store crew.  We had every window covered where light might show.   Monday morning school started one hour late.

The first thing the kids asked was, “Where is Pearl Harbor?”   I pulled down one of the old maps hanging on the wall that showed the Pacific Ocean and the Pacific Rim.  I had to give them a tip,  “Look for the Hawaiian Islands.”  That was easy and there was Pearl Harbor.  They knew what a harbor was; they were boat and ship-minded.  They were surprised to see that it was relatively close to the Kodiak Islands.

“Gee!” said one boy, “They could land here any place since we have a lot of good harbors.”  We spent the rest of the morning discussing the importance of following the blackout orders and listening to the reports on the radio.

Things went well for a few weeks.  The community was adjusting to the blackout and to a few more planes high overhead.  However, we had a new experience one day.   We heard planes coming in very low over the water.  They lifted just enough to clear the roof of the cannery building, and then dropped down to skim along over our schoolyard and ball field, lifting again to clear the timber along the beach side.  This was repeated every morning about 10:00 am.  The first morning the kids were surprised.  The second morning they ran to the windows and the girls waved.  The third morning when the girls waved the pilots waved back.  I tried in vain to keep them from running to the windows, on the excuse that we did not know who might be in the plane - friend or foe.  Their training in low altitude flying must have been completed that day because they never returned.

“Business as usual” did not work so well in the schoolroom when we were living so close to the war zone.  I began to see that Dorothy’s health was not standing up too well under the strain.  For weeks we lived with our things packed, ready to make a run for it if the enemy invaded.  Shortly after school closed there was a report on the radio that the government was evacuating all non-essential persons from the war area. 

The next morning Mr. Grimes knocked on our door to say he heard there was a large ship at the dock in Kodiak standing by to evacuate anyone interested.  The ship was scheduled to leave Kodiak at 10:30.  Mr. Grimes also said that his cannery boat was going to Kodiak, leaving at 9:00.   It was 8:30 now.   We jumped up from the table and Dorothy did something with the dishes.  I grabbed a suitcase and handbag.  Dorothy had a packed bag and the dog on a leash. 

As we started out the door Dorothy said, “Oh, my bread!” 

Opening the oven door we saw four loaves of fresh bread, brown and ready to be removed.   Grabbing two hot pads she turned the fresh loaves of bread out onto the kitchen table to cool.  

As we closed the schoolhouse door, we said, “No one has ever made a faster exit out of school.”  As we were running to the dock we met Setze from the Mission on the trail.  We paused long enough to tell her there were four loaves of hot fresh bread on the kitchen table for her.   We made it to the dock just in time.  The men were letting go of the line as we stepped on board with baggage and dog.  The one-hour trip over to the town of Kodiak was a pleasant ride but we could not refrain from continually checking our watches.               

We reached the Kodiak on time only to discover the big passenger ship was docked at the far end of the new flight runway.  We had to dock the cannery boat at the city’s end of the runway.  After climbing up the ladder to the dock, that big white ship looked blocks away.  We had no choice but to run.  The dog was the only one that got any fun out of this jogging.

As we approached the ship we could tell the crew was standing by waiting for us to come running up the plank.   Orders were given to ‘let go the lines’ as we stepped on deck.   We did not hear the whistle blow or the engines start, but the dock was soon slipping away from us.   Two seamen in white jackets approached saying, “May we help you?” One took the leash and dog the other Dorothy’s handbag.  It was only a short distance to our stateroom.   The man with the dog said to Dorothy, “This fellow will be happy below decks.”

To our amazement and surprise we were on the SS Alaska, the very ship on which we had traveled many times.  In fact it was on this very ship that the boarding officer had given us a bad time when we wanted to bring our new puppy on board back in Seattle two years ago.  Dorothy just could not believe that we were finally on board going ‘outside’ or ‘down below’.  We had been in Alaska enough years to justify the use of either one of those terms.  She wanted to stretch out on the comfortable bunk bed and have a nap.   I wanted to go back on deck to enjoy the trip. 

There were very few passengers on deck. This in itself seemed strange to me.  The only remaining land to be seen was far behind us.  One of the ship officers came by and I asked him where we were with so much water surrounding us.  He seemed a little hesitant to reply but finally he said we are on the Gulf of Alaska.  We are going direct from Kodiak to Seattle.  I later learned from other sources that on their north trip they were loaded with military supplies and men.  The ship was returning to Seattle, both empty and unprotected.  I did not share this information with Dorothy.

The second day was clear and beautiful.  There were a few rollers at sea.  Dorothy regained her composure and came out on deck to sit in a sunny spot.  It was the first time either one of us had been at sea with no land in sight.  We did not talk about the war or about enemy ships.  We found other things and ways to put in the time without discussing the reasons why we were making this trip back to the States. 

On the fourth day out we sighted land and the mountaintops of Canada or Washington.  We could not identify them for sure, but they looked good to us.   Before long, the ship dropped anchor in the bay at Pt.Townsend for a short time and then on to Seattle.  We knew where we were then with the Smith Tower dominating the waterfront.   I surprised my parents, living in Tacoma, with a phone call.  Mom just about dropped the receiver when she heard my voice.

We thought it was advisable to notify the Juneau office of our new address.   As a result there was almost an instant reply. The war situation must have been creating a shortage of qualified teachers. They offered us a position at Angoon, a choice location near Juneau.