Maine news, sports, weather | Kennebec Journal, Augusta, Maine

DAVID OFFER: No longer labeled ‘cheechakos,’ the Offers head home to Maine

FAIRBANKS, Alaska — After a wonderful year in Alaska, my wife and I are on the road, heading home to Maine.

We arrived as what Alaskans call “cheechakos” — greenhorns — and leave not quite so ignorant about what makes this state such an extraordinary place.

We learned quickly that Alaskans don’t think that people in the Lower 48 understand much about life here — and it didn’t take long for me to decide that they are right.

Distances, climate, history, pride and a strong streak of independence are part of the culture, and that’s hard to explain to people who have not lived here.

Everyone knows that it gets very cold and dark in the winter, but few understand that Alaskans don’t endure the winter, they embrace it. Bears hibernate; Alaskans don’t.

I can think of no better examples of how Alaskans deal with darkness and winter than the fireworks in downtown Fairbanks on Dec. 21, and the amazing ice sculptures in February. My wife and I were part of the happy crowd oohing and aahing at the fireworks display, and we spent hours looking at the ice creations, some so large that they had to be lifted in place by cranes.

Winter also meant two major dog sled races, the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod. Before coming to Alaska, I had heard about the Iditarod, but not 1,000-mile Yukon Quest — a race between Fairbanks and Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory, many mushers say is harder than the Iditarod.

The dedication and athletic excellence of the mushers and their dogs is amazing, and my wife and I flew 520 miles to Nome for the end of the Iditarod.

The trip to Nome was my first visit to the Bush — a term Alaskans use to describe communities that cannot be reached by road or through the state ferry system. It  describes small cities, such as Nome and Barrow in the far north, and remote native villages.

Whatever their size — Nome has about 3,500 people — these communities face special economic and social problems. Jobs are scarce, medical care is limited and alcohol abuse is a problem.

You can’t really understand the economics of Alaska until you go shopping in the Bush, where everything must be shipped by barge or air. Supplies are limited, and prices skyrocket:  A can of tomato juice that sells for $1.29 in Maine costs $1.89 in Fairbanks and more than $5 in Nome. Multiply that by everything you buy, and the picture becomes clear.

Everyone knows something about winter in Alaska, but few appreciate how wonderful summers are — and how Alaskans celebrate the start of the season.

We joined the crowd for the Midnight Sun Run (we walked) and then for the Midnight Sun Baseball Game, played without lights and lasting from 10:30 p.m. to 2:59 a.m. Thousands of people were out in the middle of the night at both events.

Since snow can begin in mid-September, summer is a brief season in Fairbanks. What the season lacks in length, it makes up in intensity. Days and nights of never-ending sunlight make crops grow quickly.

Flowers seem to grow in every yard in Fairbanks, and the university’s campus is a sea of colors, with the peonies at the botanical gardens drawing interest of flower importers in Asia.

Flowers are not the only things that bloom in the Alaskan summer. Politics is also in full flower here. It’s primary season, and Tea Party Republicans are challenging the Republican governor, Sean Parnell, and U.S. Sen. Lisa Murkowski.

Although former Gov. Sarah Palin has endorsed Joe Miller, Murkowski’s opponent, I doubt that that either she or Parnell will be defeated in the primary next month. Miller’s comments remind me of attacks on Maine’s senators, Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins, by those who say they are “Republicans in Name Only.”

During my year in Fairbanks, I tried to learn about the social and political issues, looking for similarities and differences between things in Alaska and Maine. I’ve followed zoning issues in Maine and in other states in more than 45 years as a newspaper reporter and editor, and nowhere have the anti-zoning, anti-government arguments been stronger than they are here.

Arguments about what limits government should place on smoke from wood stoves in Fairbanks have been fascinating.

My wife and I have tried to do as much and see as much of Alaska as possible in one year. We’ve been on dog sleds and snowmachines, visited as many cities as we could, attended community events. We became fans of the University of Alaska Fairbanks Nanooks hockey team, enjoyed the excellent Fairbanks Symphony Orchestra, attended plays and lectures and cruised on the Chena River. Every bit of it was fun.

I enjoyed teaching journalism at the university. The students were bright and challenging, my faculty colleagues friendly and committed.

One year didn’t make me an expert on Alaska — I can’t claim to be a Sourdough — but I hope I have shed the label of cheechako.

My wife and I will treasure our year in Fairbanks, the things we learned, the people we met, the friends we are sorry to leave behind.

Our next adventure: A 5,000-mile trip from Alaska to Maine. We’ll go through the Yukon, stop briefly in Vancouver and Victoria and visit family in Seattle. We’ll drive through Montana to see a small town where my grandfather was a pioneer. Then on to see friends and family in Wisconsin, Ohio, Rhode Island and Massachusetts before we hit the state line at Kittery.

It will be good to get home.



David B. Offer has been the C. W. Snedden chair in journalism at the University of Alaska Fairbanks. He is the retired editor of the Kennebec Journal and the Morning Sentinel . E-.mail davidboffer@hotmail.com

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