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26
May 14

Glacier Lake Trail in Homer, wildfire in Soldotna

The Homer Spit is a natural gravel and sand feature, constantly changing with the littoral drift from the tides and erosion and earthquakes and winds.

We stayed in a hotel on the very end of that peculiar geographic feature.

One side is relatively stable, but the inlet side is exposed to the Cook Inlet, with the berms having once been much higher. As recently as the 1930s drivers couldn’t see the water. But what destroys also builds. Sandstone bluffs exposed by the harvest of building materials, have eroded and the drift increases the spit’s size. They function like snow fences, creating eddies where migrating material collects and builds. This is actually making the spit longer – the beach berm at the end was five feet wide before the earthquake of 1964. A year later it was 85 feet wide. Waves at high tide once washed the walls of the hotel where we stayed. Now, the locals say, only the biggest surges can get to it.

Eight months after the earthquake the small boat harbor was rebuilt. The nine-acre installation could more 200 boats. It cost $964,000. The gravel they scooped out from the sea was reused as fill for areas damaged in the temblor.

Today we hiked the Glacier Lake Trail, to see the Grewingk Glacier. It was named in 1880 by William H. Dall, a name we’ve heard a lot in this area, for named by the Constantin Grewingk, a German geologist and archeologist, who was a key member of the Estonian archeology, meteorite collections and some early explorations of Alaska, among other things. He wrote about his works on Alaska and the Pacific Northwest for Russia. He also has this nice little glacier.

Seeing it involved an alarm clock, a walk, booking a water taxi and being piloted by Shiloh:

He was an excellent captain. He gave us views like this:

That’s where Shiloh left us.

We had to work our way over the Saddle Trail. The terrain offered spruce and cottonwood trees. It is built up nicely for day hikers.

The views on the way up to the top of the climb are breathtaking:

As you work your way back down the other side the trail leads you into the outwash plain of the Grewingk Glacier and the broad, gravel beach of Glacier Lake.

We didn’t give ourselves enough time here, unfortunately. We should have planned for more. Off to the right there was birdsong. Everything else was perfectly quiet. I walked maybe half of the beach and there was no obvious pollution. Aside from one outbuilding — perhaps an outhouse — there was no obvious sign a human had ever been there. Of course they have, but it was clean.

Also, I found this:

Google tells me there is one Beth Nugget in the United States. Anyone know her?

I have a few other pictures I’ll put up from the of this hike tomorrow. Already this has gotten long and we’re just now getting back on the water on the return trip to Homer:

My new house!

And one more of our new pal Shiloh.

Adam found the Time Bandit, from The Deadliest Catch. We leaned over the rail and discovered that vessel is a lot smaller in person than it appears on television.

I found the Horizon, formerly the U.S. Navy YO-43. You can just see the old name under the paint. I discovered that the Horizon, originally a fuel tanker, was at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941.

The Horizon’s stern:

We’ve been told the skies haven’t been nearly as clear as they usually are in Alaska. Sometimes you see it in these shots, sometimes you wonder what people are complaining about. Or, if not complaining, they’re just disappointed: the tourists can’t see everything. That’s considerate.

The reason is this fire just outside of Soldotna, about 70 miles north of Homer and 64 miles south of (or 148 meandering miles by road to) Anchorage:

We never saw the actual flames, but this weekend it became a megafire, engulfing more than 100,000 acres. As much to the location as the firefighters, only one structure has been destroyed in the blaze so far. They were evacuating people, though. Five of the eleven signs I saw in Soldotna had a similar message:

That sky isn’t a camera trick, but it is spooky if you’ve never been beside a substantial wildfire before. It is just five miles east of the town of Soldotna, we’re told.

But then, you drive out from under it and get another view like this:

And then you can just pull off on the side of the road and see sites like this on the Kenai River:

How could you ever get bored with that?

And, then, a bit later, another turn in the road and you look to the left over the Turnagain Arm and see those clouds again:

Tomorrow will be an easy day. I’ll just catch up on a few photographs here, just in case you haven’t gotten enough yet.

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18
Apr 14

A Doolittle anniversary

Today marks the 72nd anniversary of the Doolittle Raid. I wrote a story about Dean Hallmark, who piloted The Green Hornet, the sixth B-25 to take off from an aircraft carrier.

That story led to me befriending Adam Hallmark, one of the finest men I know, and his beautiful wife Jessica, some of his friends and a handful of the soldiers with whom Adam has served.

Adam gave me a print of Dean’s plane, which I hang proudly on my office wall:

That little profile taught me more about a particular tale of courage and atrocity. Because of it Lauren and I took the opportunity to visit Dean’s grave at Arlington.

I had the distinct honor and privilege to meet one of the Raiders, 98-year-old Lt. Col. Richard “Dick” Cole:

It all solidified my respect for what a group of 80 bold, audacious volunteers set out to do.

It is important that we remember, so that others may never forget, brave men live by the motto “Toujours Au Danger.”

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12
Apr 14

Washington Artillery Park

This is a gun guarding over the Mississippi River, just off Jackson Square, standing in honor of the Washington Artillery, the 141st:

It is a still-active unit, which first drew colors in 1838 (though the unit has an unrecognized pre-history) in the Louisiana Army National Guard. It is the Louisiana Guard’s oldest unit, in fact. It is also the oldest artillery outfit in the nation outside the original 13 colonies. There’s something special about that gun, one of the unit’s original four-pounders.

The Washington Artillery received its regimental flag in 1846 after serving under Zachary Taylor in the Mexican–American War. Four companies of the regiment served in the Army of Northern Virginia and a fifth for the Army of Tennessee. Domestically they worked floods, yellow fever outbreaks and labor riots. World War I ended with the 141st still training in France, but their sons earned a Presidential Unit Citation for the Washington Artillery in World War II. In Europe they saw 463 days of combat and fired 150,871 rounds during 7,004 missions and occupied 108 positions. The modern guardsmen saw action in 2004 through 2005 and in 2010, in Baghdad.

Many of the members were still in Iraq when Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. They rotated back and a detachment immediately went to work in rescue efforts here at home and ultimately worked with state and local police to combat looting and other crimes in the New Orleans area. They patrolled at home for an astounding three-and-a-half years. Many of their own homes and their barracks, were flooded in the storm.

Battles? You name it, they’ve been there. In the Civil War they were at both battles at Bull Run, Shiloh, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Chickamauga, Chattanooga, Atlanta, Appomattox and many more. In World War II they fought in Algeria, Tunisia, Anzio, Po Valley, Rome, Sicily, Normandy, the Ardennes and Germany. Sgt. Lee Godbolt, the last member of the unit to have died in the line of duty, was killed in Iraq in 2005.

Their coat of arms has both the growling tiger and a pelican tending the nest of chicks.

Their unit motto, perhaps the best ever: “Try us.”

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11
Apr 14

Wandering through Jackson Square, New Orleans

On our first day in New Orleans we walked up to Jackson Square. Here’s the statue honoring the general and president:

I posted a few more photos from the square last week. We’ll just assume you’ve heard of him. The sculpture, by Clark Mills was installed in 1856. Mills did a life-cast of Abraham Lincoln’s head. He is famous for several Jackson sculptures. He also cast the Statue of Freedom, which sits atop the U.S. Capitol.

Here are some things that Wikipedia tells you that the local signage doesn’t:

(It) was the prime site for the public execution of disobedient slaves during the 18th and early 19th centuries. After the 1811 German Coast Uprising, three slaves were hanged here. The heads from their dismembered bodies were put on the city’s gates.

In the Reconstruction era, the Place d’Armes served as an arsenal. During the insurrection following the disputed 1872 gubernatorial election, in March 1873, it was the site of the Battle of Jackson Square. A several-thousand man militia under John McEnery, the Democratic claimant to the office of the Governor, defeated the New Orleans militia, seizing control of the state’s buildings and armory for a few days. They retreated before the arrival of Federal forces, which re-established control temporarily in the state.

He lost to William Pitt Kellogg, a Republican from Vermont, a friend of Lincoln’s, who was viewed as one of the first carpetbaggers.

On the square are the Pontalba Buildings, which were built by Micaela Almonester, Baroness de Pontalba. This is a great story. I’m condensing from Wikipedia:

Micaela Almonester, a wealthy New Orleans-born aristocrat, was one of the most dynamic personalities of that city’s history.

Micaela was the only surviving child, and after her parents died she stood for a big inheritance. Her arranged marriage (though Micaela was in love with an impoverished man) moved her to France. Her father-in-law tried to steal away that large inheritance, shooting her four times, point-blank, with dueling pistols. She survived. He killed himself that same night. Eventually she was able to leave her husband. Ultimately she fled France as the revolution there got underway. She returned to New Orleans, saw the property had basically become a slum and she continued her father’s work there when the place was still known as the Place d’Armes.

When she had arrived back in the U.S. Jackson sent his own carriage, and Secretary of State Martin Van Buren, to pick her up. Maybe that’s why she helped finance the statue of Jackson, and helped rename the square after the New Orleans hero.

She turned the square into the modern gardens. While landscaping, she apparently threatened the mayor with a shotgun after he tried to prevent her from tearing down two rows of trees. She returned to France to be near her oldest son. When her estranged husband fell ill she took care of him until she died in 1874, at 78.

We ate in a restaurant inside one of her buildings. The back of the menu had a bit of her story. It was written in such a way that made you think there was more to it. Maybe that’s why there was a play, an opera and several novels written about her life.

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10
Apr 14

We just wandered by this square in New Orleans

This is a part of the Louisiana Supreme Court, which sits in Judge Fred Cassibry Square.

The square is more interesting, as it is named after Fred James Cassibry, who served as a judge for the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Louisiana from 1966 until 1987. The Mississippi native attended Tulane during World War II and was a star athlete there before law school. He cruised on a destroyer in the Pacific during the war. When he came home he got a job with the NLRB and then created a private law practice. He served as a city councilman in the 1950s. His obit says:

With little support from his colleagues, Mr. Cassibry fought Morrison for an investigation of the scandal-ridden Police Department, which was later found to have an organized system of payoffs from illegal lottery operators, horse-racing bookies and houses of prostitution.

In a recent interview, Mr. Cassibry recalled how he was criticized at the time for discussing what he called the police chief’s “intimate relationship” with whorehouse madams. “He sued me,” Mr. Cassibry said. “But when I called him for a deposition, he dropped the suit.”

He was a district judge, too:

After he was elected to a Civil District Court judgeship in 1960, Mr. Cassibry continued to make waves, warning lawyers who tried to talk with him about cases they had in his court. “When they called me, I told them if they mentioned the name of the suit, I was going to go over and beat hell out of them,” he said. “They stopped calling.”

President Lyndon B. Johnson nominated Cassibry to the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Louisiana. He sat there from 1966 until 1987. He returned to private practice and was appointed to the Louisiana gaming commission “where his outspoken style saw him clash repeatedly with the rising gaming interests.

Given what you’ve already learned about him from those three paragraphs of his obituary, what do you think has to happen for people to make note of your outspoken style in Louisiana?

The historic marker on the square reads:

Fred J. Cassibry (1918-1996), U.S. Navy WWII veteran, served on the New Orleans City Council, Orleans Civil District Court, U.S. District Court, E.D. La., and the Louisiana Economic Development and Gaming Corporation. Throughout his 40 years of public life, Judge Cassibry personified the definition of a dedicated public official. He never forgot he was a servant of the people. Square dedicated by 1999 La. Acts 708.