Thanksgiving 1964

As Thanksgiving approached in Kivalina, I remembered the celebration we had the previous year. It was my first Thanksgiving in the United States and we celebrated it in Kansas with relatives from Tiger’s mother’s side of the family. It was a large gathering and it lived up to my expectations of what a true Thanksgiving was like.
The celebration would be different here, and I knew I was in for a special experience. Tiger kept talking about the feast at the armory and how much he was looking forward to it. I didn’t know what to expect but I had been asked to contribute something to the feast. At first I was going to make sticky buns — something I was sure they would enjoy but never had eaten. Realizing this was going to be a daunting task I decided to make several dozen chocolate chip cookies. This was no small chore either because everything was mixed by hand and cooked in an oil stove without a thermometer. I burned the first couple of batches but after that I was off and running.
The teachers invited us to their place for dinner and of course, I wanted to go. Tiger was reluctant to accept the invitation but finally after much coaxing he agreed to do both.
We had been asked to dress up for dinner at the Keating’s and this created dilemma for me. I had brought up one dress which would necessitate nylon stockings. And nylons in the early sixties required a garter belt to hold them up; something I hated. Warm tights, and panty hose were an item of the future. However, I managed to wear the dress with the nylons, my mukluks and a muskrat parka that had been made by one of the native women.
Dinner at the Keating’s was outstanding, complete with a white table cloth, turkey with all the trimmings and even wine, a gift Tiger had contributed. We were satiated with good food, a warm house and interesting conversation.
And then off we went to the armory for the village celebration. Glancing around, I noticed that all the women and children were dressed in new parka covers. It must have been a monumental amount of work for the women to do this. (It was dark when we went to the feast and I have no photos. These girls depicted here loved to dress up and would have been looking forward to a new parka cover.)

The table was laden with goodies —cakes, pies, greens, caribou meat, (my chocolate chip cookies) and Eskimo ice cream known as Akutaq. This is made from caribou or moose fat, and seal oil is sometimes added. The mixture is whipped to the consistence of Crisco. Available berries are added and occasionally sugar. Akutaq is frozen and served as dessert. This ice cream now is occasionally made from Crisco and not the fat of a caribou or moose.

The fat used was often from a caribou killed by one of the young boys and was part of the Thanksgiving celebration. Two young boys were honored as having shot their first caribou.
I wasn’t sure how I could eat after having a traditional Thanksgiving dinner at the Keating’s place. However, I managed to sample everything.

Usually this type of feast was accompanied by drumming, story telling and dancing. Long before 1964, the missionaries had taught the natives that this was evil. Today this has changed and the old traditions of the natives are now an accepted part of their life.

When the feast was over, the children ran around like whirling dervishes.The men brought out their guitars and Tiger joined in playing his accordion. How I loved to watch him as his fingers danced over the keys and the way his smile never left his face. Little were we to know that two weeks later his ability to play the accordion would be gone. (To read more see Journey Through Fire and Ice which will be published mid-January.) Walking home in the frigid air, I realized what a unique experience this was — an opportunity to have a traditional feast and a native feast, something I knew might never happen again.

A day later, we took off on a winter camping trip. The temperature was twenty below zero and I thought that no native woman would go off on an trip like this unless she had to. Was this really going to be fun or was I crazy to be going on this adventure? We were alone on the trail and the only noise was the panting of the dogs and the runners of the sled. We were happy to to have this time together away from the village but fate intervened and although Thanksgiving was over, we were thankful to return home from the expedition alive.

As I think about Thanksgiving this year, I think about that Thanksgiving and its aftermath so long ago. We were two young people grateful to have had a wonderful celebration with the natives but totally unprepared for what lay ahead.

This year, many of us will be celebrating this holiday without the warmth and comfort of good friends and family. In early March, we were totally unsuspecting of its magnitude, thinking that the pandemic would soon be over and we would enjoy the fall holidays.

As Covid 19 surges through the United States, we are forced to rethink our plans. Some will have a small celebration and others will risk everything to be with their extended family to give thanks. We now have a light at the end of this dark tunnel as two vaccines have been announced to combat the virus. Hearing this, we have much to be thankful for. As one friend said to me, “I can hardly wait to be able to hug my friends and family again.”
However you decide to spend Thanksgiving try to follow the CDC rules to stay safe and stay well. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

Hallowe’en

I remember Halloween 1964 as though it was yesterday. It was a beautiful day —clear and cold with snow crystals in the air. Tiger decided we should go out with our dog team. He borrowed a sled and off we went. The air seared our lungs making it hard to breathe but the trip was exhilarating. Half the time I wasn’t sure whether we were on the island of Kivalina or on the mainland. I felt as though we were on a roller coaster ride twisting and turning as the dogs plowed through the snow. I could understand his fascination with this sport and loved every minute of the ride. How lucky I was to be having an experience like this.

Tiger’s sled was not finished and we had borrowed one for the outing. He had been working on it for 3 weeks and that night he was painting it—putting on the final touches. When it was painted we could use our own sled and go out whenever we wanted. Just as Tiger started to paint there was a knock at the door. Three teenage boys stood there with black painted all over their faces.

”You want something ?”Tiger asked. (This was a standard phrase in Kivalina whenever anyone knocked at the door.) “It’s Hallowe’en.” one of them muttered. They stood there waiting and I went to our tiny kitchen and handed out the popcorn and candy we had stowed away – just in case.
They smiled and were on their way presumably to their next stop at the teachers’ house knowing they would get candy there. They were our only trick or treaters.I hoped that some of the other children would come — the ones who visited me on a regular basis. Did the missionaries tell the village that Hallowe’en was the work of the devil and should not be celebrated? I pictured the kids back home in their various costumes running from door to door and felt sorry for these children who didn’t know how to celebrate Hallowe’en or have the fun of dressing up in costumes.

I thought of them again a few years later when we had children of our own. Hallowe’en had become by then a special holiday for our family. I loved to make the children’s costumes and would go out with them as they went from door to door getting their bags of candy. We celebrated three or four Hallowe’ens in Winnipeg when the children were young. There was almost always snow on the ground. Out they would go with layers under their costumes and boots on to keep their feet from getting cold. Harrisburg was usually warmer and their was no need for the layers they had worn in Winnipeg. Until they reached their teenage years Hallowe’en was a source of excitement and fun.

They handed the traditions down to their own children and I got vicarious pleasure from the photos that they sent. All but one of the grandchildren have outgrown Hallowe’en and God willing a new generation will follow the old traditions.

This year promised to be different. Would there be a Hallowe’en at all because of Covid? How could we make it safe? And yes Hallowe’en did come— not today but on Thursday in many areas. With it came rain and winds and a night to stay at home and not go anywhere. Today, there are a few children out with their costumes on hoping to get treats as they go from door to door.

And I wonder — do they celebrate Hallowe’en in Kivalina now? Life has changed so much there since I was a part of the village. Today in Kivalina, it is 14 degrees and mostly sunny. The sunrises about 10 and sets a little after 6. Are there children up there racing from house to house bundled up in some sort of costume with a warm parka underneath? I love to think of their sweet faces and the joy they may be getting from a Hallowe’en outing despite the frigid air.