The Ladies Of The Long Alaskan Night

I was surprised to find out that Alaska once had the world’s largest copper mine.  It produced $32,000,000 worth of copper in its prime.  And it was extremely isolated: surrounded by glaciers and the Wrangell Mountains, 200 miles from the nearest seaport.  The miners, all single men, lived in dormitories in a company town where they were forbidden to drink and to gamble.

I was surprised to find out that the largest city in Alaska sprang up almost overnight to take care of the needs of the copper miners.  The city was ten miles from the mine, and had 500 buildings.  It was called McCarthy.  McCarthy was thriving before Anchorage was even founded.

I was surprised to find out that one street in McCarthy, called The Row, consisted of houses where single ladies lived --- ready to take care of the needs of the copper miners.

Our tourgroup had been in Alaska for a week, and I had grown used to surprises.  I had seen wild ptarmigans walk across the path in front of me as if I did not exist; I had seen a Volvo graveyard where old Alaskan Volvos were lined up on the side of a mountain; I had seen tomato plants that were way taller than I am.

In 1938, the copper ran out.  The last miners got on the last train to the seaport.  The train tracks were torn up.

Seventy-three years after the mine had been abandoned, our tourgroup went to McCarthy.  McCarthy had not been abandoned, but it had shrunk dramatically.  Its year-round population is now forty-five people.

What do these forty-five people enjoy? 

They have a museum displaying photos of the ladies who lived on The Row.  They have an espresso truck.  They have a renovated boarding house.  They have an arts center in the old hardware store, with a sign announcing an upcoming poetry workshop.  They have a new general store.  They have a bar, and right next door to the bar is a 5-star restaurant with a James Beard Award-winning chef.

Now I was in hyper-surprise mode.  A 5-star restaurant in McCarthy --- that is 1 star for every 9 people in town.

Because I have lived near the Sahara Desert and I have lived in Minnesota, I know that harsh climates and harsh landscapes make individuals stand out. 

In the harsh climate and the harsh landscape of the Wrangell Mountains, it was one man who helped shape present-day McCarthy.  I got to meet him; his name is Neal.  It was easy to see his impact on the town.  He renovated the boarding house, renovated the bar, updated the general store, and brought in the 5-star chef.

In the past eleven years, Neal has only left McCarthy once.  He spent a winter as the assistant manager of the Whole Foods store on Union Square in Manhattan.  Yet another surprise.

When our tourgroup left Alaska, I felt that McCarthy was the most Alaskan of all the places we visited.

I may have to go back to McCarthy because I forgot to ask my history question.  In the lower Forty-Eight, we use the term “ladies of the night”.  What term did they use in McCarthy in its heyday?  Certainly they didn’t call the women on The Row “ladies of the night” when the Alaskan night is six months long.

- . - .- . - . - . 

NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com