CunUra Ctmcfi
Owned, controlled and edited by Tundra Times. Inc., a corporation of Alaska
natives. Published at Fairbanks, Alaska, twice monthly, on the first and third
Mondays.
Address all mail to Box 1287, Fairbanks, Alaska. Telephone GL 2-2244.
Entered at the Post Office at Fairbanks, Alaska, as second clatJS matter under
the Act of March 3, 1879.
Tundra Times, Inc., publisher (Howard Rock, Martha Teeluk, and Alfred Ketzler);
HOWARD ROCK, editor; Terry Brady, assistant editor; contributing editors,
Guy Okakok. Martha Teeluk, and Alfred Ketzler.
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Editorial
Our Nation's Symbol . . .
(Continued from Page 1)
After listening to the confirmation of the death of
President John F. Kennedy, the editor of this paper went
out to keep an appointment. When he came back, the little
secretary, an Athabascan Indian girl, said quietly:
"You know what Jacqueline did? After her husband
died, she took her ring off and put it on his finger and
kissed him." Struck with great sadness, she broke down
and wept. She, like the rest of us had been terribly
stunned. Her President—our country's President was dead
—cruelly shot by an assassin.
This was a revealing example that no matter who we
are, an Athabascan Indian girl or an ex-President, President
John F. Kennedy was a great symbol of the land we love.
His sudden and tragic death caught us off-guard and many
of us experienced a void that asked, "What will happen
to our country now?" The earth beneath our feet—the
earth we were acccustomed to because it was our land,
did not seem as firm when President Kennedy died. We
suddenly realized that his high office was of great im
portance to us.
And too, without being too aware of it, we had
learned to love him. We grieved when we suddenly
realized that he had been a brave, deeply dedicated man
in the service of his country. We had lost a great President
—a kind President.
The drama of creating a new President quickly fol
lowed. Although sad, it was a moving and thrilling spec
tacle. A great Democracy had received a numbing blow
and being what it was, and is, it regrouped swiftly. With
in 90 minutes after the death of President Kennedy, a new
one had been firmly established—President Lyndon B.
Johnson.
However sad one felt, the moving drama of a great
Democracy at work gave one a feeling of great pride in
his country. It gave one a feeling of belonging—of want
ing to belong—forever.
Such a feeling was brought on by an extraordinary
event (which is one of the greatest calamities in the world)
—the loss of the President of the United States. Why do
such feelings come to fore? In many cases only during the
country's tragic events? Should we learn to respect and
honor more the highest office in our land?
We now have a new President. Would we be remiss
if we learn to respect him now and support him as he
takes on his awesome duties of guiding the destinies of
our land? It would be rewarding and proper if we ask God
to give him guidance as he works for us and for the good
of our country.
To close without saying a further word about our
former First Lady, Jacqueline Kennedy, would be remiss.
Under the most tragic circumstances, her behavior won the
heart of the world. In the face of a dire tragedy that cruelly
overtook her, she, perhaps, established a greatest example
of a brave woman by conducting herself in a poignantly
correct manner. She walked in sad dignity. Her husband
was possessed of a fine Presidential mettle. Jacqueline
Kennedy had no less.
This paper is of the opinion that there are a great
many people who would wish to say something comforting
to our former First Lady and we humbly take the liberty
of saying it for them—GOD BLESS YOU JACQUELINE
KENNEDY- ; * JtX.ls.iiIE
NORTH STAR
AWARD
(In each Issue, the Tundra
Times will single out for a North
Star award one who has made an
outstanding accomplishment or
done a meritorious act.)
During the most heart-rending
event of the assassination of Presi
dent John F. Kennedy, his wife,
Jacqueline, was a sad and a ma
jestic figure to behold. She con
ducted herself with a poise un
equalled, we believe, in history. It
seemed to us that God was walking
with her.
Outside of the repeated exclama
tion of, “Oh. no!,” when she sud
denly realized that the President
had been shot, she conducted her
self regally under the most trying
circumstances any human being has
ever been subjected to.
Jacqueline Kennedy personified
greatness that we read about in (his
tory. She was stricken with over
whelming grief but she carried it
with sad dignity. The awesome
gravity of it would, perhaps, in
capacitate any other human being.
The way she carried herself made
all of us love her and grieve with
her.
It made us feel grateful that we
have people like her, who display
strength under the shadow of a
great tragedy. Her husband, John
F. Kennedy, had such strength and
we are seeing it in our new Presi
dent, Lyndon B. Johnson. It makes
us feel a little more secure because
of their strength in the face of tra
gedy.
Many natives have talked with
us since the senseless assassination
of our good president. Their grief
has been deep — deep from the
heart. It showed us that they have
unquestioned loyalty to their coun
try. When it is hurt, they are hurt.
When it grieves, they grieve.
When they saw Jacqueline Ken
nedy in her hour of greatest sad
ness and how she stood up under
it, it was to grieve with her—grief
that reached into the depths of their
souls.
We feel a little inadequate to pay
our tribute through our North Star
Award, but we feel we must. And
so to Jacqueline Kennedy, whose
greatness we have seen in her hours
of great ordeal, goes the twenty
eighth North Star Award along
with our deepest sympathies and
prayers for her comfort.
POEM
Moose Bones
By Robert N. Zimmerman
Moose bones beneath the winter
sky:
A leg bone, a joint, a thigh—
Above the hardened snow.
The air is twenty below.
Tracks of snowshoe hare—
Leading here and there.
But down along the trail
Are tracks you could not fail
To notice. Large, near round . . .
You need no sound
To tell you. Wolf. The story’s clear:
He travels there: he circles here.
The paw is wide.
And see — his stride.
But day or night
You catch no sight
Of this loner. You hear a howl.
You know above the bones, a growl.
That weasel, fox, and birds picked
clean
The last bit. Behind this screen
Of spruce he trailed him,
Pulled him down. By dark sky, the
day was dim.
Who would know
Much more? The story’s here —
told in the snow.
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Guest Editorial
A Way of Life
(Reprinted from The Daily Alaska Empire)
This, series of editorials, running in the Sunday Empire
since Oct. 13, is to stimulate thinking by Alaskans about
the way of life we want to grow up into. It is based on the
belief that Alaska, a new state largely unchanged from
nature, with all kinds of people, yet in small numbers so
far, is in an excellent position to create a better way of
life than that in the rest of the United States, profiting from
mistakes made elsewhere, creating a basis and manner of
living in keeping with our own basic realities, which are
unique, not simply imitating what has been done else
where.
We've discussed some fundamentals of hunting and
fishing regulations, for subsistence, for commercial pur
poses, and for sport; the importance of science in our fu
ture; the problem of enough but not too much economic
development; and the desirability of social services in
keeping with the spirit of pioneering, avoiding any unne
cessary dependency by our people. It isn't our intention to
tell others what to think, to set forth any rule or final
opinion, but merely to encourage thinking relative to the
basic realities and the true and deep wishes of Alaskans,
thinking that may discard all our ideas as it moves forward
but nevertheless will have gained from the discussion. We
expect to continue the series for at least another month,
touching upon education, transportation, patterns of set
tlement, hospitality to visitors, high cost of living etc.
Today we comment about Alaska and the arts, which,
surprisingly to those who think of Alaska as merely a
"frontier," are very strong here—so strong as to be an
indicator for our developing way of life. We think first
of the arts of the natives, largely traditional but modified
to some extent by the growing demand of new markets.
The native arts—blending into what artists would call
crafts but often involving real art as well—the ivory carv
ings, the totems, the remarkable blankets and baskets,
even mukluks, parkas, utilitarian items—were important
parts of the old cultures. Now( sometimes suffering in qua
lity from quantity production) they have new uses, as
souvenirs or, at best, as genuine objects of art filling the
need of people everywhere to renew contacts with tradi
tion, with the basic Earth.
It seems to us that native carvings ana oiner on
crafts can provide a means of support and the primary
part of a satisfying way of life for quite a few Eskimos,
Tlingits and Haidas—and perhaps Aleuts and Athabascans
as well. The market would use quantities of "mass produc
tion" items (we need to compete more effectively with
the Japanese in making "Alaskan" souvenirs), as well as
genuine and original works of art, some sold to individuals
in Alaska, both visitors and residents, some through major
art markets in different parts of the world. (Alaskan native
arts or facsimiles are already available by mail order and
in New York City and in some other cities.)
Traditional native dances, which for a time were
almost lost, are showing signs of being revived—for en
joyment by the people themselves, for adding to tourist
interest, and for building the reputation and spirit of
Alaska on the outside. A notable example is the group of
Chilkat Dancers of the Haines area, including people of
both Native and Caucasian backgrounds (we should blend
our ways of living now; in fact, we are doing so). The Chil
kat Dancers have performed in various states, as well as
enlivening Alaska.
We have noticed a few artists who blend the native
traditions and the Caucasian arts, and we thing this is a
fruitful direction. A surprising number of Alaskans are
producing high caliber watercolors, oil paintings, and
works of pictorial art in other media. Alaska also, we be
lieve, has more than a normal share of poets and creative
writers who are both producing and selling. More books
about Alaska are published than about almost any other
sparsely populated part of the world. Music too is promi
nent, though to quite an extent on the spectator-concert
goer side thus far, rather than in composition and perform
ance, though these aspects are developing too, witness
Juneau's new symphony and similar developments in other
parts of the state.
Alaska—one of the most interesting and challenging
of all parts of the world—in natural scenery, in historic
background, and in new activity—provides artistic inspira
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