19. Drinking

I became fond of Samovar vodka. I could start drinking it before I left for the bars and saloons in Sitka. Soon, I was a frequent resident at the oily jail. Police Chief Doucette had long admonishments about my drinking and I wasn't interested in what he said. He begged, cajoled, and threatened me about my drinking and I didn't pay attention. One Saturday morning the mattress in my cell became a smoldering inferno due to my carelessness with a cigarette. I had no access to water so the jail was soon filled with smoke. I feared for my life because there was no air to breathe. The fire department was right above the jail and I was literally going down in smoke and flames because nobody was detecting the fire. Finally I was overcome and was kept alive by sucking the air under the crack of the door. When I gained consciousness they had taken me out into the street. The doctor came and immediately stuck a long needle right through my clothes and into my heart. I recovered several days in the hospital unable to learn any lessons about life in my close shave with death. Years later I would recall this incident and wish that I had died. I held on to my job as dental tech but kept ending up in jail for being drunk in public. Three months after my 21st birthday the police had enough of me. They brought me in front of the U.S. Commissioner. They said I was ending in jail too many times and was becoming a threat to myself and others. The U.S. Commissioner asked me what I had to say for myself. I weakly said, "I'm guilty." The Commissioner then sentenced me to six months plus a day in prison. I spent a few days at the Sitka jail waiting for a plane to take me to prison. Now I was a federal prisoner so the police gave me my choice of eating places. But everywhere I went I was hand-cuffed to the officer. I ate well, frequently choosing the Bayview Cafe for my meals. Since the officer ate with me he was pleased with my taste. I asked him why the Commissioner had sentenced me to six months. PLUS A DAY. So I would have to serve six months plus that day, meaning no time off for good behavior. Did they have confidence in my good behavior? Or did they? Next, I was flown to a prison in Juneau. I stayed there about two weeks. About thirty of us were locked up in a large room that looked like a large dormitory room except that it was enclosed by bars. Guards patrolled around the barred-in room constantly. At one end of the room was a long table where we could play cards. A Thlingit man named Alexander asked me if I could play chess. I taught him how to play and he was thoroughly fascinated by the game. He couldn't think of anything else. We played chess all our waking hours for days on end. It became more and more difficult for me to checkmate him. The only time we broke away from chess was to eat and even then he hurried me. I went to bed thinking about chess and woke up thinking about it. "Alexander, you know I'm going to beat you all day today. You can't be enjoying this." He didn't answer except to motion me to the table. Then the one-sided chess games would begin. I shouted at him. "Don't move your finger!" He had the unnerving habit of moving his forefinger in a semicircle when he wanted to move his knight. Alexander had a huge bronze face. His thick eye brows fill in the area between his high, wide cheek bones. He had thick lips and talked in a deep voice. When he talked. At first I enjoyed beating him easily. My enjoyment turned to disdain because he would accept defeat after defeat without being perturbed. Then I was filled with consternation and apprehension when he became competitive with me. Then one day he quietly said, "Checkmate!" without gloating. Indeed, he had checkmated me. My pride was hurt. Quietly, he asked for another game and beat me again. Then he dominated our chess matches. When I would try to beg off his answer was. "You taunted me when you beat me. Now you got to pay the price." Our roles as the victor and the vanquished had become reversed. My early disdain turned to respect. Now every game began and ended with a handshake. I learned that superiority was a fleeting thing, that I had little, if any, over anyone. My constant chess playing with Alexander was put to an end when I was told that I would be transferred to the prison camp at Anchorage. Alexander had learned to love chess and became adroit with the fork and the pin. Teaching me lessons. "Never forget the dumb Eskimo who taught you chess. In fact, maybe you should dedicate your first victory to me." I became the Roman General of the Tenth Lesion transferring his command. The Federal Prison Camp at Anchorage was within the Elmendorf Air Force Base. There were no barbed wire fences. The only manned security was at the entrance gate. A group of Quonset huts provided quarters for the prisoners. The prison guards seemed affable. if not downright friendly. I feared coming to the Camp. My idea of Federal inmates was, that of a bunch of desperate cut throats. Many of the prisoners were Alaskan Indians and Eskimos who really had a gentle nature. I could not see the criminal in them. Like myself, their crime was attributed to alcohol abuse. How could they belong in a Federal Prison Camp? The U.S. Marshalls, who are law enforcement in territorial lands, must have sent these Indians and Eskimos in front of a U.S. Commissioner who sentenced them to the Camp because they were drunks like myself. If my father had refused the B.I.A. Agent's order to stop hunting and fishing he would have been sentenced to the Camp. The laws of the white man, and his power to carry them out, now had me a hapless and helpless its prisoner in their Prison Camp. My bitter sense of gall at the white man and his power soon left. Winter was coming and I was assured of a warm place to sleep and three meals a day. My instinct for survival was assuaged. The Camp was laid out simply. Five Quonset huts side by side were in front of a two story building. In back of the huts was a basketball court which was flooded into an ice rink in winter. Four of the huts were sleeping quarters and the fifth was the supply building. The two story building was administration as well as kitchen, dining room and recreation. The huts were warm and the food even better than at Mt. Edgecumbe. The guards who supervised everything, were friendly if not paternal. Lt. Robbins, who wore a gold stripe around his uniform cap, was Warden. He had a cherubic face with white hair and was quietly friendly to guards and prisoners. When I was walking in the yard he introduced himself to me and asked where I was from. He also told me I could talk to him any time I wanted. I trusted him immediately. It was easy to do since I could trust all the authority figures since very early childhood except my own father who was the only Eskimo among them. My first job was digging a ditch. About ten of us were on that detail. It was early September and the ground was already getting hard, The work was not hard and we dug that ditch about eight hours a day. But I was ready for any other type of work. I was in luck. The stock room clerk was sent to the hole in downtown Anchorage. They found a bottle of vanilla under his pillow. I proved I could type so I got that job. My new friend Johnny Pinook from Barrow told me that the rumor was going around that I had planted that vanilla to get the clerk‘s job. I did nothing to correct that rumor so I could get a reputation totally different to me. I gained easy acceptance because the man I replaced was a feared white man. Tough Eddie. What a joke I thought. I One of my duties was to shorten inseams of guard uniforms. These were the same type of uniforms that our guards wore. Since I was kept quite busy shortening inseams. I assumed that there were other prison camps in Alaska. Were Indians and Eskimos being imprisoned en masse? I only wondered. The man I worked with, the man who taught me how to sew, identified himself as a Bohemian gypsy from Seattle. He was a heavy, darkly complexioned man with thick lips. Other inmates told me to be wary of him, that he was a homosexual. I didn't really know the meaning of homosexual. "Why don't you come to Seattle with me? Be my companion and I’ll make sure that you're taken care of, that you don't have to work." I didn't like him at all. I warned him that if he so much as touched me I would make sure that he was sent to the hole.The bluff worked because thereafter he called me sir and did what I told him to do. I became his boss. Mr. Fife then consulted me on all work orders having to do with sewing. Mr. Fife was the guard in charge of the stock room building. He was a man in his early sixties and liked me immediately. "I like the man who comes in and takes charge," he said referring to the change of roles of me and the gypsy. Mr. Fife contemptuously called Manny a queer but I was never bothered by Manny. When new Eskimos came into camp I warned Manny to stay the hell away from them. I had never seen television before. I looked forward to watching the test pattern and accompanying music, which was always the same, on late afternoons. It was fun. The Ed Sullivan Show had the biggest audience, followed closely by The Lawrence Welk Show. I dropped ping pong and pinochle to watch the latter. Pinochle seemed to be the most popular type of relaxation. So many played it that a tournament was set up by the Guards. By this time Johnny Pinook and I were unbeatable because we cheated. No one ever saw our toe to toe connection. If I had hearts my right foot would tap his left foot once, if diamonds twice, if clubs thrice, if spades four times. If his hand agreed with my strong suit then he lifted his left foot. The better his suit the more emphatic the lift. If I had no strong suit it was I up to him to tap my foot. Pinook and I beat all ouropponents with lopsided scores and split the first prize which was five cartons of Pall Malls. Pinook felt guilty so he gave most of his cigarettes away. Not me. The White man had built/ created this den of imaginary thieves and put me in it. Among them, I had no honor. George Schultz stood out like a sore thumb. He was white, blonds and blue eyed. When I asked him What he was doing here, his answer was, "All I did was act like a drunken Eskimo." To this I asked, “Did you get violent?" "Yes!" "Did you stagger a lot?" "Yes!" Were you angry?" "Hell Yes!" ‘"Were you confused?" "You mean like a dumb Eskimo?” “Hell Not" "Then, you weren't a drunken Eskimo." When he asked me why there were so many drunken Eskimos I told him that we might be trying to drink ourselves out of existence. After a long silence he asked me if I could play pins pong. I enjoyed watching Schultz play ping pong. He was all show. He confused everyone with different spins and when serving he would spin the ball on the paddle rather than hit it. After each victory he would shout. "I must be the greatest!" After a series of victories he I would flex his fists in the air and proclaim, "I AM THE GREATEST!!!!" I could hardly wait for the ping pong tournament. I practiced a lot with Pinook who was a fair player. The first prize was ten cartons of Pall Malls. The more, I thought, to reward Schultz for his expected mastery over everyone. I had to beat Pinook before I could play Schultz who had easily reached the finals. I beat him by two points in each of the games I won. This was on Wednesday but I had to wait till Friday nite to play Schultz. In the meantime the Guards were actually placing money bets on Schultz to win. I tried to borrow money among the Eskimos and Indians to bet on myself with no avail. Finally Placido, a Filipino, lent me $100. I had a hundred but no takers. We agreed on one game, winner take all. Finale. I almost skunked him. even with his illegal serve. Before I picked up the prize I handed Schultz a piece of paper to read. He shouted, "I am no longer the greatest, greatest!" He never played me again, even for fun. The Catholic Chaplain from Fort Richardson came to say Mass every Sunday. He was always in a rush so I never got to talk to him. By this time I was beginning to search myself on how best to my countrymen who were in their own alcoholic wilderness, a place help so bleak and hopeless that there seemed to be no answer. Before my release I was told that the Federal government would pay my way to anywhere in the States or Territories. I chose Sitka because I knew more people there. It felt good to be back at Sitka. This time I wanted to climb Arrowhead Mountain which loomed majestically behind Sitka. I got a job washing dishes at the Pioneer Bar and Grill. It was easy work and I rented a room at the Bayview Hotel. For the first time I appreciated the great beauty of the area. I wanted more. Soon I hired on as cook on a small Mission boat that was going to Juneau. The first meal I cooked was fried herring and it was the highlight of the trip as far as eating was concerned. I had bought a bucket of herring for fifty cents and cooked it the way that Chester had taught me. We travelled the Inside waters and the scenery was beyond description. The narrow passages between mountains were silvery. For finding deer feeding on kelp my trained eyes were better than binoculars. The people who owned the boat were Presbyterian missionaries. I was flattered very much when they asked me to join them permanently. I had other ideas. At Juneau I was hired as mail clerk for the Bureau of Indian Affairs Area Office. I bought white shirts and ties to make a good e impression. They even had a Verifax copying machine. The process was wet and messy but it copied documents instantly. Sisters Mary Joanne and Mary Rose who taught me at Hole Cross Mission were working at the Church. II was glad that they a little bit of civilization to work in. The first time I went to Mass I ran into Jimmy Withrow. He and I had been boys together at Holy Cross. Our idea of fun was to camp out together and live off rabbits and trout near a lake behind Mt. Roberts. My drinking pattern was too much, Jimmy lost patience with me and I turned to the bars and saloons for all my good times. I met Chester's brother George in Juneau and we became friends. George also worked at the BIA office. I paid him $40 a month to eat all my meals with his family. Another man I befriended was Peter Three Stars. He was an Indian from the Lower 48 and was a lot of fun to drink with. He also worked at the BIA. George, his wife Kathryn, Peter, his wife Paula, and I did a lot of drinking together. We all had regular jobs and it I seemed that drinking and getting drunk was all there was to do.