Echoes of the 1918 Pandemic in Alaska

View from the cabin, isolation, dmshepard, quarantine, Alaska
Chicken cemetery, unknown grave,
dmshepard
Plain cross, person unknown

When I first wrote this post back in March, the State of Alaska had officially declared a “shelter in place order.” We had over 80 cases state-wide and 1 in-state death. The mandate didn’t actually change much for us here in Anchorage, we’ve been under a shelter in place since the 20th, with only essential businesses open. Though unofficially we were asked to minimize contact when the first cases broke out in Washington state and the first few trickled into Fairbanks.

Alaska Hunkers Down

This may seem a little extreme. Why did Alaska hunker down so quickly while states like New York and California waited until the disease was in full swing to call an emergency?

Echoes of the 1918 Pandemic

While there are many answers for this, one of the biggest lies in the state’s past, and the tragedies revolving around the 1918 Flu Pandemic.

Copper Center Telegraphs

In the fall of 2011, my husband and I took a trip to Valdez. Along the way, we stopped at the Historic Copper Center Road House and Museum. One of the fascinating displays was the collection of telegraphs reports—specifically from the 1918 Flu Pandemic. Even in these simple, short missives, you can sense the dread even a century later. The remote territory was watching the signs of spread the same way Londoners watched the eastern skies in the summer of 1940. But the illness imposed on the white population was nothing compared to the utter devastation wreaked on the native population that still echoes to this day.

Nome’s Fatal Mistake

From this Alaska Daily News Article by Tony Hopfinger in May of 2012, it is hard for many to fathom how such a remote region at the time, not connected by real roads or planes could have a disease still spread. The answers are simple:

  • A lack of understanding of testing/identifying who had the flu and then quarantining the individuals
  • And a desire to get supplies and mail to the interior before winter set in and the ports became ice-locked

https://www.adn.com/rural-alaska/article/part-3-how-alaska-eskimo-village-wales-was-never-same-after-1918-flu/2012/05/27/

The flu was already spreading and killing in the south east of Alaska. A supply ship was heading to Nome with people onboard who already had it. Unfortunately, their inability to identify and quarantine the sick led to its spread.

The mail carriers then began the deadly trail north, dying and killing along the way.

The Lost Village of Wales

A Lonely, Weather-beaten Cross

On the sandy beach of the Wales, facing the Bearing Sea, there’s a lone wooden cross. This windblown grave marker is a testament to the ravages of the 1918 Flu on this coastal Native Village. The mail carrier arrived in Wales already sick. Taking him in, the disease spread like wildfire.

The Devastation of the Flu on the Native Population

According to Hopfinger’s article, the territorial Governor of Alaska, Jack Riggs, saw the devastation on the villages in the South East and petitioned Washington for funds to bury the dead. Dealing with their own outbreak, and sending funds to Europe in the aftermath of WWI, they had no interest in sending money to the remote territory to bury non-whites.

When he realized no word had come from the Seward Peninsula. He commissioned rescue teams to investigate.

True-life Horror

I write horror for fun, and I love Alaska in all of its harsh beauty. But sometimes truth is far more terrifying than fiction. As I picture the scene from Hopfinger’s writing, I cringe. When the rescuers reached the village, with temperatures at 40 to 50 below in the winter of 1918, they encountered the worst of northern nightmares. Entire families huddled together, frozen in mass. Children barely alive, huddled against their dead parents-not understanding why mom and dad can’t wake up. Dogs and wolves snapped and snarled in the night, fighting over remains of bodies. The majority of the survivors huddled in the school house, terrified to come out.

This had once been one of the largest native villages on the Seward Peninsula. It was now annihilated.

Burying the Dead

I know from both having a remote cabin and dealing with ground that is frozen most of the year, trying to dig by hand (or even with heavy equipment) is difficult if not impossible. From my research for my historical fiction novels, the larger cities would often pre-dig a number of graves in the fall, to minimize the amount of work they would have to do when people died during the long dark winters. In the smaller communities, the dead had to be stored somewhere the animals couldn’t get to them until spring thaw.

But how do you dig 172 graves while being attacked by half-wild dogs and wolves?

Dynamite

In order to bury the dead, they had to use dynamite to blast a hole in the sand. 172 bodies were stacked in a mass grave, along with an unknown number of parts and limbs. They also threw in the dogs that had to be shot because they had become feral, feeding on humans and now were out of control in the village.

Shishmaref Prevents the Flu from Spreading North

Word had gotten ahead of the Flu’s deadly slog north to the village of Shishmaref. Forewarned, the village decided to quarantine themselves. They stationed armed guards eight miles outside the village. The precaution halted the disease’s march, it went no further. This action saved not only Shismaref, but the villages further north.

Alaska Covid-19 Response

I admit, even as this first broke out, I was a little skeptical. I thought, this can’t be that bad. But as it began it’s spread first in China, then to Italy, I’m glad the Mayor of Anchorage, Mark Berkowitz, was proactive in his response.

Berkowitz put it bluntly:

If we don’t take care of ourselves, nobody else is coming because everyone else is contending with this pandemic at the same time.

Berkowitz, Mayor of Anchorage in response to ordering shelter in place on March 20, 2020

https://www.adn.com/alaska-news/anchorage/2020/03/21/anchorage-mayor-issues-hunker-down-order-to-curb-spread-of-coronavirus/

The shelter in place was issued for Anchorage official on March 20th, though we had been asked to self-isolate a week prior. Though we live in modern times, Alaska is still isolated and can easily experience shipping issues and supply shortages on a normal basis, let alone when the rest of the country is in an emergency state. Most of the medical resources lie in Anchorage and Fairbanks, with the remote communities only being served by a basic medical clinic.

History doesn’t repeat, but it often rhymes

Attributed to Mark Twain

This quote is attributed to Mark Twain (though it is hard to find proof he actually said it). It is one of my favorite quotes. I hope that we here in Alaska can avoid repeating the mistakes of the past. From what I can see, we’re doing a decent job, hunkering down as the cases rise. We’ve now had 10 deaths in state so far and over 300 cases. The cases are slowly flattening, as people stay home and reach out to one another online. We know our economy is about to take a huge hit, being dependent on both tourism and oil. Both will be depressed this year if not non-existent. If living in Alaska has shown me anything, Alaskans really do help each other, even in the worst of times.

Thanks for reading my post. Sorry for being kind of a Debbie-downer. I know everyone is a little weary of this. I hope that all of my friends ride through this safely, and we never hit the worst-case scenarios. Take care. I promise my next blog will be a little more upbeat. The next blog is going to be about the night Ray and I spent at the “haunted” Gakona Lodge and our experience in room number 5 (the haunted room).

The Dark Land, horror novella by DM Shepard
The Dark Land, Available on Amazon

My novella, The Dark Land is available on Amazon:

The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be pushed to the limits on the isolated trails of The Dark Land.

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The Lonely Miner of the 60-Mile

Even as the snow continues to fall, the days are getting longer and we feel spring is right around the corner. Ray and I are planning for not only the 1st Chicken Run of 2020 (tentatively the last weekend in April), but placing orders for our summer projects. We have a lot of plans for this summer and we can’t wait to get started.

Travelling the Taylor and Top of the World Highways

Top of the World HIghway, Alaska side

But as some of you who follow me regularly know, Ray and I have a passion for Historic Ghost Towns. We’re planning on getting out this summer and visiting a few more in the region. We are going up the Taylor and Top of the World Highways toward Eagle and Boundary to obtain large chunks of quartz and granite for landscaping and sculptures. We are also going to drive to Dawson, the setting for my Historical Fiction/Paranormal Romance, A Drink of Darkness.

Yukon River, looking north from Midnight Dome

Ghost Town of 60-Mile and the Lonely Spectre

One of our stops along the way will be the Ghost Town of 60-Mile. On the Canadian side of the border, people were mining in this area more than ten years before the discovery of gold on the Klondike. During its heyday, almost 2000 people lived in this remote area. Before the highway was built, it was the direct route between the mining towns of the 40-Mile district of Alaska and the Klondike goldfields. Most people packed up and headed for Dawson when they heard of the big strike. But a few stayed and continued to mine (there are still some small mining operations to this day).

From the Ghost Town of Chicken, AK; a the former residence of a hermit miner featured in some of my blogs, Toad

Hermit Miners

According to resources, one character in particular was a hermit miner named John Stockton. One of the interesting things about the miners who come to the region, and really people who come to Alaska in general, they are true loners. Many really want to just work their claims and be alone. They might come into town on once or twice in a summer, pick up their supplies, and head back out only giving the occasional greeting. From all accounts John was one of these. Not hostile, but not social.

The Ghost’s Background

John was born in Oregon circa 1866* and was found deceased by the Northwest Mounted Police near his claim in 1944. He filed 6 mining claims with the government. He was buried on top of the hill in a spot he had pre-selected, overlooking the 60-mile valley. According to numerous stories and legends, his ghost still haunts the hill, and can be seen from time to time watching the new mining operations in the distance. He apparently doesn’t like anyone mining on the claim on which his grave rests. Anyone who tries experiences unexplainable equipment problems and bad weather.

Greeting the Ghost

We plan on checking out the ruins of the old town of 60-Mile. Most of this Ghost Town has succumbed to the elements. We’ll also say hi to John. According to legend, he’s amicable to people saying hi and visiting his grave, he just doesn’t like it if they disturb things, linger long, or try to find out anything about him. Mediums and other people trying to reach out to him purportedly have gotten a stern, “Leave me alone,” in response to their well-meaning efforts.

After having our cabin out in Chicken, I could understand wanting to live my eternity undisturbed out in such a beautiful, peaceful region. It sounds like the “Lonely Miner of the 60-Mile” is content with his afterlife.

Who wouldn’t love to enjoy this view forever?

Much of my information on this story, I got from the book, Ghosts of the Klondike Gold Rush by Shirley Jonas.

https://www.yukonbooks.com/shop/customer/product.php?productid=2343

Thanks for reading. My horror novella set in the Alaska backcountry, The Dark Land, is coming to Amazon May 4th. (pre-sale starts April 16th). If you sing up for my newsletter, you’ll get a sneak preview of a scene from the Dark Land.

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In my next blog post, I will talk about one of the most famous ghosts and hauntings of the Klondike Rush, and Dawson City’s Palace Grand Theatre.

The Dark Land, horror novella by DM Shepard
The Dark Land, Available on Amazon
Ancient evil stalks the frozen trails of Alaska’ boreal forests. The legend of the Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. The Dark Land’s hunger for flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter

*I did notice a minor typo in her book about John’s DOB, which is why I note the year of his birth as approximately 1866. It is listed in her book as 1886, which doesn’t add up to his death in 1944 at the age of 79. According to her notes, he filed his first claim in 1909 at age 44.