First things first: this is about people who weren’t born in Alaska but, later, chose to make it home. At times, much later. Say, when they’re 43 or so, 15 or so years after the first time they visited the state.
I’ll introduce you to plenty of born-here people in the issues and years to come. No, this is about seeing the signs that, perhaps, you were meant to fall in love with this place. There’s an “Oh, you hurt yourself? Well don’t just sit there. Get up. Move forward” about life here that eclipses much of what I’ve seen pretty much everywhere else I’ve ever been.
And, in going through some old papers, I realized I’ve had that from the get-go. So, here, a letter I sent to my parents when I was 11.
“Dear Mom + Dad… I’ve been in alot [sic] of accidents…but I can walk.”
The letter details all the goings-on during the first week of my first summer away from home. The year: 1981. The place: Journey’s End Sleepaway Camp.
See you next week with lots of chickadee knowledge and, of course, a new Alaska dog of the issue.
Jenna
Special edition: How do you know if the Alaska life is right for you?