I'll never go to Alaska

 

I have no desire ever to go to Alaska - not even with the temptation of getting a glimpse of Russia.

I joke - but grimly do so - that I might not survive the trip there. Alaska claimed one member of my family, and nearly claimed another.

My younger (and only) brother moved there in the 1970s to work on building the oil pipeline. He learned to be a welder, and made a lot of money. He kept trying to get me to join him up there, but I was not prepared to drop out of college.

When work on the pipeline ceased, he, used to making - and spending - lots of money - got involved with risky behaviors and ran afoul of the law. He got caught, but did not face jail time because he turned state's evidence in one case.

He struggled for a while afterwards as he tried repeatedly to clean up his act. We wrote back and forth, and he even returned briefly a couple of times, including one long visit when he needed some surgery. He kept talking about going straight. His last visit was at Christmas, 1982. He was clearly troubled. I tried to advise him. We talked about faith. We talked about his many talents and gifts. We talked about the future. I urged him to return home permanently. He said he'd think about it, but that he had some things he needed to clear up, and he had a girlfriend he did to want to simply desert. He went back. We spoke again by phone a couple of months later. He said he was optimistic that everything was going to work out. 

That was the last time we spoke.

In May of 1983, he reportedly left his apartment with a substantial amount of cash, telling his girlfriend he had to meet someone.

He never returned. His car was found several days later parked in a University of Alaska parking lot.

We got word shortly thereafter that he was missing. My father contacted Alaskan police, but got nothing. He even contacted our Congressman and the FBI and tried to get them to get involved. No luck.

Finally, he flew up to Alaska. He began digging around and started hearing that my brother had apparently gotten the wrong people angry, and that he had been set up, murdered, and his body dumped somewhere in the back country. My dad went to the police with what he had found, but they did not seem very interested in actively pursuing it. When he came back he told me that one officer told him unofficially that my brother's case was not a priority, and that the attitude was simply "scum kill scum."

Dad continued to dig and got some names. He went to see those people, but when he approached one place he was shot at. He had to run. He thought the police would do nothing, and that if he stayed longer than he'd planned he might end up dead.

Dad also discovered that my brother's friends had basically looted my brother's possessions, taking cash and anything that was valuable - including, apparently, a major portion of a substantial coin collection he'd amassed and about which we'd talked (I also collected coins, but not to the extent that my brother did). Dad gathered up what was left of my brother's possessions (I currently have what's left of his coin collection), and shipped it all to New York.

Among the things that he collected were some of my brother's clothes. My mother mourned by washing them all, and carefully putting them away. When we were cleaning out the house after mom died we found those items careful folded and stored in boxes.

My brother was eventually declared dead, though no body was ever located or identified. I gave a DNA sample for matching should any remains ever be found.

This year marks the 35th year since he left us. Mom and Dad are now dead, so I am all that is left.

I keep wondering if some day I'll get a letter from Alaska declaring they had found something.

I have a fantasy that some day there's will be a knock at the door and he'll be standing there explaining he'd been in hiding all this time.

But that is a fantasy.

I still have the hat he gave me that last Christmas. I use his nickname as one of my passwords. There's a picture of him on the wall. I have refused to part with what's left of his coin collection.

I've been thinking about family a lot this Christmas, and he's been on my mind. I miss him.

As for going to Alaska, even if Alaskan officials ever find something, I won't go up there.

The only part of me that will visit Alaska is my DNA sample.

Pax et bonum