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  • EPISODE 381 MEMORIES OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLE: THE ALASKA INCIDENT 1960…ILL CONSIDERED PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN


    EPISODE 381    MEMORIES OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLE:   THE ALASKA INCIDENT 1960…ILL CONSIDERED PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN

    alan skeoch
    July 3, 2021



    THIS IS A STORY ABOUT THE PICTURE BELOW…A YUPIK COUPLE ON  THE EDGE OF THE BERING SEA

    Should I have taken the picture (Below) ?   I am not sure.   In the back of mY mind at the time I wondered if my actions
    were appropriate and  that thought has stayed with me for 60 years.    After much searching I found the picture
    and replicated it below.  The Yupiks were very friendly, perhaps a little inebriated…perhaps not.  The Yupik people 
    are Inuit.  Their territory covers the vast barren southwest corner of Alaska…fronting on the Bering Sea north of
    the Aleutian Chain.   Dillingham, Alaska…a salmon fishing and canning centre.  Called a City but really barely a town.
    Over one tenth of the population live below the poverty line.  Crime is high.  Those facts have not changed in the
    last 60 years.  

    In 1960, I was quite unaware of Dillingham.  I had never heard of a Yupik. 

     “Alan, you will be going to Alaska
    on a Turam job…wear some good clothes to impress our Humble Oil contractors…searching for copper…Our crew will
    be setting up diamond drill sites.  Big project, there will be two Sikorsky helicopters at the campsite.  Bottom line!
    You guys have make a good impression.”


    MAKING A GOOD IMPRESSION

    Time has passed, I can say more about the job now.     Dr. Paterson got us all Green Cards which meant we had skills that no one else in the United States had.
    Partly true.   Bill Morrison taught us all we needed to know about the Turam method of detecting mineral conductors deep under
    overburden.   Simple put, we were trained to use a motor generator and a mile of copper shielded cable to push an electrical
    current into the ground and take readings of that current on a grid.  If there was a conductor …i.e. a great lump of chalcopyrite
    under the ground… then we could detect an ‘anomaly’ that just might be important.

    Were we important people?   Specially trained? Who were we really?  Three of us were students at
    the University of Toronto…Don VanEvery, Ian Rutherford and Alan Skeoch…two maths and physics 
    student and one history student. (What the hell was a history student doing here?  Good question.
    I preferred to keep that part of my background invisible.)   Bill Morrison was the Turam expert and
    I became his assistant.  Called ‘field men’…i.e. no engineering degrees.  The brains of our team
    were Dr. John Stam, a true geophysicist, and Mike Chinnery, a recent geophysical grad from England.

    Were we important people.  Felt that way even if it was a bluff.  One thing for sure was that we seemed
      important people to the two Yupik residents sitting on a wooden stoop
    in a town that to me in 1960, was  unremarkable save for its salmon cannery and huge pile of beer bottles in the garbage dump.

    IMPORTANT PEOPLE!

    For some strange reason be landed in Saskatoon en route to Anchorage, Alaska.  
    Even now so many years later this photo confirms our self importance.   Don VanEvery,
    Ian Rutherford and Mike Chinnery.   Geophysical prospectors.   Suits!!

    In the Ancharage airpot diner I ordered ‘Milk Toast’ for breakfast because it sounded sophisticated.
    Turned out to be baby food which gave the team a laugh.

    Leaving Anchorage we boarded a smaller prop driven passenger plane…a Fokker F 27. 

     “Well , boys, we 
    can now say we flew in a Fokker.”
    “Are not all airplanes Fokkers at one tome or another.”
    (laughter)

    We flew over the Alaskan 
    Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes where the crust of the earth is thin and the seething cauldron of molten
    stone beneath us comes to the surface.  

    We flew westward for a couple of hours or more. Beneath us the land looked empty.   Then a strange thing
    happened.  At least in my memory it was strange.  A crew member came back and hand cranked down the the landing
    gear.  The F 27 could land on water as well as land.  Hand cranked?  Why?  had the hydraulics failed?

    Ah, yes, the passenger terminal at Dillingham, Alaska, in 1960.  That could have been
    a farmers’ drive shed back in Ontario but, here, in Dillingham it was the contact point with
    the outside world.
    Mike Chinnery and Alan Skeoch have kept up the pomposity four U.ofT. blazers.  Ian and Don have relaxed.

    We only stayed in Dillingham for an  hour or so.  Just enough time for us to meet the two Yupik people and a chance
    to see a Yupik  fish camp on the edge of the Bering Sea  where we had our fuel dump.
    The S 52’s were revving up when I ran to the beach to get this photo.    Why were the hanging carcasses of
    split salmon not bright red?   Simple answer. Because they were covered with flies.


    At some point we met the Yupik man and wife.  At that point I took their picture.  Talk about aggorgance.
    …self-importance…rudeness…holier than thou thinking.

    Everything was moving so fast.   At the time I thought we would meet
    many indigenous people.   Wrong.  These two were the onlyYupiks we 
    saw on the whole summer job.

    Isn’t that strange?   Why were the indigenous people so invisible?



     

    Then we spent the summer being ferried by helicopter here and there across the empty space of SW Alaska.  We never even spotted
    another Yupik.


    Bill Morrison with the Turam console…


    Bill Morrison expected me to help him with his main love…fishing.   We could fish while the midnight sun shone.
    Of course this is an exaggeration. 

    A barren land cut by occasional river valleys.  Thousands of years ago the Yupik people crossed here from Siberia.


      ALASKA 1960:    There were 31 of us on the job…25 American diamond
    drillers and 6 Canadians using a Turam geophysical instrument to site drill sites in the great
    emptiness of south west Alaska…north of the Aleutian Chain.

    What I do remember clearly is that three of us, Canadians, proudly sported our University of Toronto dress
    jackets.  Anglo Canadians with specialized knowledge. Proud and arrogrant we must have appeared. 

    We only had a few minutes in Dillingham before we 
    were to be ferried by big Sikorsky helicopters to our tent campsite in the interior.

    I did not think.   Sitting on the doorstep in the village were two indigenous people.  Likely Yupik.  A Man and his wife…older…
    perhaps in their 60’s.   Both seemed either super friendly or somewhat inebriated.    Without asking I took their picture.  Think about that.  These two Inigenous
    Americans were  treated like I had been years earlier in a rock outcrop in northern Quebec…subjects of photography.   

    In this case, however, I was the photographer just like the priest and his carload on the Opemiska road.

    For the rest of the summer on the barren lands we never saw a native person.  Yet this was their home.
    None were part of our crews.  They were the only indigenous people we met.    WE flew in…did our
    survey…and flew out.  I never even asked their names.

    Somewhere I have another picture.  Not proud of it.  When the Yupik man got up to shake my hand he
    fell flat on his face. I helped him to his feet and asked one of our crew to take picture of us.
    I was wearing my University of Toronto dress jacket.  He was wearing the clothes you see in the picture.
    Even then, back in late May 1960, I felt uncomfortable about that picture.   I had crossed a line. Violated
    a trust.  Exploited a situation.   

    Today, in the bright lights of awareness of  others, I would not have  taken those pictures.
    What should I have done?   The same thing that most people would have done…pretended
    these indigenous people did not exist.  Which is worse? 

    alan skeoch
    July 2021 
      
    WHO ARE THE YUPIK PEOPLE?

    Population[edit]

    The Central Alaskan Yup’ik people are by far the most numerous of the various Alaska Native groups. They speak the Central Alaskan Yup’ik language, a member of the  Eskimo–Aleut family of languages.
    As of the 2002 U.S. Census, the Yupik population in the United States numbered more than 24,000,[4] of whom more than 22,000 lived in Alaska, the vast majority in the seventy or so communities in the traditional Yup’ik 

  • EPISODE 379 MEMORIES OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLE , CANADA DAY 2021″ “LOOK, THERE’S AN INDIAN…GET YOUR CAMERA.”

    (Beginning…short series on my meetings with indigenous Canadians )

    EPISODE 379    MEMORIES OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLE ON CANADA DAY 2021: “LOOK, THERE’S AN INDIAN…GET YOUR CAMERA.”


    alan skeoch
    July 1, 2021

    In my ten years of summer work in mining exploration I met many indigenous Canadians and two indigenous Americans.  In retrospect
    the experience is unsettling.,,but also joyful.  Mostly joyful.






    This is the closest photo I can find to illustrate a strange experience in late summer 1967…Northern Quebec.




    My experience with indigenous Canadians is episodic … i.e. discrete stories unrelated to each other
    but collectively important to me on this Canada Day 2021.  

    1) Summer 1957:   I had been working in a tent camp near Chibougamau, northern Quebec for two months.  Outdoor work
    slogging through our Canadian coniferous forests.  Tough work.  No time for the niceties of civilized life
    like a haircut or a bath in soapy water.   Our crew was flown out to an old logging camp on the Opemiska
    road…a wide gravel road where mining trucks had the right of way and precious few cars ever travelled.

    Early One  sunshine filled evening I climbed up on a rock outcrop overlooking the roadway.  In a cloud of dust
    a car came barreling along.   Passed me by.  Then braked and backed up.  A priest got out along with
    some well dressed passengers with cameras.

    “Look up there…that is an Indian…take pictures if you want.”

    They were looking at me then snapped a few pictures. And then they were gone.  That was my earliest experience
    with native people.  I was the native person.  I was caught on camera as if I was a moose or black bear that had
    crept out of the forest.   Yes, it was amusing.  But in the back of my brain it was also unsettling. WhyWere native people
    treated this way…i.e. ‘Things’ to be photographed then ignored?

    And what made me look like an ‘Indian’?  My skin was now dark…like leather.  My hair was uncut.  My skin a bernished leather.
    I had given up the war with insect cannibals…let them have their victory if they could chew their way through smoke filled pores.
    I was part of the forest.  An oddity…a shadow.  My existence was entertainment…captured then forgotten.
    That moment in 1957 remains crystal clear in my memory.  There was something about the moment ,,,those  cameras snapping.  
    Something disconcerting.   At the time, however, it was just amusing. “Look, there’s an Indian up there on the rock.”

    Our crew of ten men were all Anglo-Canadians.  That is we were all English speaking.  Our linecutting crew,
    on the other hand, was all Franco-Canadian.  French speaking.  Our two crews did not talk to each other.  We lived
    in the two solitudes of Canadian life.  

    What was missing?   There were no indigenous Canadians on either crew.   At least none to my mind.  Yet not many
    miles to the North West was the Mistassini Reserve…a large population of English speaking native people..

    Chibougamau was a boom town.  Miners…lots of them.  Young men mostly with a few prostitutes available at
    $20 a throw.   All this was very surprising to me for I was just a Grade 11 high school student from Toronto.  Voltaire’s
    Candide as it were.

    Where were our  indigenous Canadians in this hurly burly world of Chibougamau?   Where were they? They were not present.
    They may have been here and there in the forested fringe but I never met one…never saw one….then I became one.

    Where were they?   This is…was… their land.   Why were some of them not working the bush trails they
    must have known so well.   Why was a Toronto high school student doing the job.
     Now it is year 2021 and I have never heard an answer.  Where were they?


    NEXT:  PART TWO … BARREN LAND OF WEST ALASKA

    THE ONLY time we were ever armed as geophysical exploration teams was the Alaska job.
    But I remember meeting two Yupik indigenous people more than I remember this
    rifle meant to scare off Kodiak bears.   The memory of first contact with Yupiks does not
    reflect well on me.   Remember I was just a kid.  The contact was fleeting but in retrospect
    disconcerting.   Coming in Episode 380
  • EPISODE 379 MEMORIES OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLE , CANADA DAY 2021″ “LOOK, THERE’S AN INDIAN…GET YOUR CAMERA.”

    (Beginning…short series on my meetings with indigenous Canadians )

    EPISODE 379    MEMORIES OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLE ON CANADA DAY 2021: “LOOK, THERE’S AN INDIAN…GET YOUR CAMERA.”


    alan skeoch
    July 1, 2021

    In my ten years of summer work in mining exploration I met many indigenous Canadians and two indigenous Americans.  In retrospect
    the experience is unsettling.,,but also joyful.  Mostly joyful.






    This is the closest photo I can find to illustrate a strange experience in late summer 1967…Northern Quebec.




    My experience with indigenous Canadians is episodic … i.e. discrete stories unrelated to each other
    but collectively important to me on this Canada Day 2021.  

    1) Summer 1957:   I had been working in a tent camp near Chibougamau, northern Quebec for two months.  Outdoor work
    slogging through our Canadian coniferous forests.  Tough work.  No time for the niceties of civilized life
    like a haircut or a bath in soapy water.   Our crew was flown out to an old logging camp on the Opemiska
    road…a wide gravel road where mining trucks had the right of way and precious few cars ever travelled.

    Early One  sunshine filled evening I climbed up on a rock outcrop overlooking the roadway.  In a cloud of dust
    a car came barreling along.   Passed me by.  Then braked and backed up.  A priest got out along with
    some well dressed passengers with cameras.

    “Look up there…that is an Indian…take pictures if you want.”

    They were looking at me then snapped a few pictures. And then they were gone.  That was my earliest experience
    with native people.  I was the native person.  I was caught on camera as if I was a moose or black bear that had
    crept out of the forest.   Yes, it was amusing.  But in the back of my brain it was also unsettling. WhyWere native people
    treated this way…i.e. ‘Things’ to be photographed then ignored?

    And what made me look like an ‘Indian’?  My skin was now dark…like leather.  My hair was uncut.  My skin a bernished leather.
    I had given up the war with insect cannibals…let them have their victory if they could chew their way through smoke filled pores.
    I was part of the forest.  An oddity…a shadow.  My existence was entertainment…captured then forgotten.
    That moment in 1957 remains crystal clear in my memory.  There was something about the moment ,,,those  cameras snapping.  
    Something disconcerting.   At the time, however, it was just amusing. “Look, there’s an Indian up there on the rock.”

    Our crew of ten men were all Anglo-Canadians.  That is we were all English speaking.  Our linecutting crew,
    on the other hand, was all Franco-Canadian.  French speaking.  Our two crews did not talk to each other.  We lived
    in the two solitudes of Canadian life.  

    What was missing?   There were no indigenous Canadians on either crew.   At least none to my mind.  Yet not many
    miles to the North West was the Mistassini Reserve…a large population of English speaking native people..

    Chibougamau was a boom town.  Miners…lots of them.  Young men mostly with a few prostitutes available at
    $20 a throw.   All this was very surprising to me for I was just a Grade 11 high school student from Toronto.  Voltaire’s
    Candide as it were.

    Where were our  indigenous Canadians in this hurly burly world of Chibougamau?   Where were they? They were not present.
    They may have been here and there in the forested fringe but I never met one…never saw one….then I became one.

    Where were they?   This is…was… their land.   Why were some of them not working the bush trails they
    must have known so well.   Why was a Toronto high school student doing the job.
     Now it is year 2021 and I have never heard an answer.  Where were they?


    NEXT:  PART TWO … BARREN LAND OF WEST ALASKA

    THE ONLY time we were ever armed as geophysical exploration teams was the Alaska job.
    But I remember meeting two Yupik indigenous people more than I remember this
    rifle meant to scare off Kodiak bears.   The memory of first contact with Yupiks does not
    reflect well on me.   Remember I was just a kid.  The contact was fleeting but in retrospect
    disconcerting.   Coming in Episode 380
  • EPISODE 379 HAPPY CANADA DAY

    EPISODE 379     HAPPY CANADA DAY


    alan skeoch
    July 1, 2021

    Well, Canada Day seems to to a bit of a downer this year.  The unmarked graves
    of hundreds of native children wrenched from their homes only to die and be
    buried in unmarked graves is a terrible legacy of Residential Schools.

    Guilt?  Who should carry the guilt?  Much more will be said about this legacy.

    It is a tough time.
    We need to be happy…absolute need right now…so here is
    my greeting on Canada Day 2021


    Kevin and Andrew Skeoch…some years ago.  

    Coming…my experience with indigenous people during my decade doing
    mining exploration in tiny corners of North America that few will ever 
    see.  Often these tiny corners were the homes of indigenous people.
    More to come.

    alan
  • EPISODE 37ROBERT ROOT’S EXPERIENCE WITh LYME DISEASE – TICKS

    EPISODE  379     ROBERT ROOT’S EXPERIENCE WITH LYME DISEASE = TICKS


    SUMMERTIME AND THE NATURAL WORLD IS INVITING.





    I love daisies…wild flowers in general.  I also love looking for Monarch Butterflies.  As do you.  Be careful…CAREFUL!



    black legged tick – sometimes carrier of lyme disease -If deer are present then ticks are present.



    black legged female tick swollen with blood

    Photo of two nymphal blacklegged ticks on a hiking boot.
    two ticks on a hiking boot…massive enlarged photo to show how tiny ticks can be




    JUNE 28, 2021

    LETTER TO ROBERT ROOT FRM ALAN SKEOCH

    Hi Rooter,

    I feel duty bound to write an episode on Lyme Disease  as many of
    my stories involve outdoor activity …. sometimes but not many in long grass.
    Your story is very important.  A cautionary tale since many people long for
    a chance to get outdoors.  Chasing butterflies maybe.  Be careful.

    A few years ago a good friend of mine got Lyme disease from a tick bite when
    he walked through long grass on a hiking trail near Ancaster Ontario.  He did not
    notice the tic.   It bit him, sucked some of his blood then dropped off.  Infected him. Rooter
    had no idea he was infected with Lyme Disease so carried on normally until the
    full impact of the disease struck.  It was devastating.  Best said in his own
    words.   A clear warning to avoid long grass.  Easy to say.  Hard to do.




    ROBERT ROOT’S STORY

        
    Sunday afternoon August 22nd 2004 My wife and I went for a walk near The Hermitage in Ancaster. 
    I left the trail and went into the long grass to get to the pinnacle of a hill we were climbing.  A day later a bulls eye rash
    appeared on my left ankle and both ankles were badly swollen.  I lay down and put my feet up and my heart felt like it
    was being flooded as lymphatic fluid poured into my heart from my legs.  The next day I saw my doctor and he put me
    on an antibiotic and Lasix ( a dewatering pill ).  4X a day I put my feet up to drain the fluid.  The lymphatic system
    was badly affected.  I had to stay around the house with my legs propped up and cancelled other activities.
    I sang in a quartet at church but had to cancel that on the 29th and stay lying with my feet up. 
    On the 30th I went to my doctor again and he gave me more antibiotics.  This was a very symmetrical disease.
    When my left armpit was inflamed my right arm pit was too.  Swelling in my left wrist coincided with swelling of the right wrist.
    When I first lay down my heart felt flooded as the great thoracic duct poured lymph into the auricle of the heart.  Wednesday
    Sept 1st I saw my doctor again and received a third round of antibiotics for 7 days.   I stayed home the weekend of
    Sept 5th and rested with my feet up.  Friday Sept 10th I washed the car.  I was now getting more active but still spent a good
    part of each day with my legs up.  Sept 16th I went to choir practice and Sept 18th I attended My son Wesley’s STAG at
    Woodbine racetrack but had to go to the car and prop my legs up to drain for a while. 
    Sept. 29th my doctor prescribed support hose for me and to this day 17 years later I have to wear support hose and put
    my legs up during the day.   I am one of the “Lucky ones” because my doctor got me the correct antibiotics right away.

    Many people who contract Lyme Disease and don’t get the correct treatment right away suffer permanent organ
    damage and have lifelong disabilities.

    My doctor is a frontier doctor.  He has been treating farmers for a good part of his life.  One year he got the record for
    the most home visits in a year.  He initially thought I had spider bites but he did diagnose the correct antibiotic.  Hallelujah!

    We still check for ticks and occasionally find them on us even if we are not out in long grass.





    CAUTION

    Being outdoors after the Covid 19 isolation can be wonderful.  But be careful.
    Long years ago when I worked in Southern Ireland I noticed many cattle herds
    carried ticks on their snouts.  I had never heard of ticks until then.  Our work involved
    crossing and criss crossing Irish fields…climbing over stone fences with lots of long grasses.

         Pushing our way through gorse and bracken…dense.

      So each
    night I carefully examined my body for ticks. Especially my legs.  Never found one
    fortunately.   Irish ticks were ugly but did not carry Lyme disease then but they do now..  In North
    America the situation was dangerous. 

    You would not want to get Lyme Disease as my good friend Bob Root has explained.

    Marjorie picked a tick from Woody our Labrador last week.  No joke.

    alan skeoch
    june 2021