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There are times when it’s incredibly difficult to be thankful. There, I said it. I know, it’s Thanksgiving next week and everyone’s posting “Today I’m thankful for…” on Facebook, and I’m over here going, “Yeah, but how come I feel as if someone just stabbed me in the heart and then ground the blade in … Continue reading Sometimes Thankful is Too Hard…

  When I was a child, I knew a man named Johnny Blidburgh. In the mid-1960s, he was the track patrolman on the Curry to Gold Creek section. He lived at Curry House, which was where the freight crews would stop for dinner or to overnight when they went dead. (“Going dead” means that the … Continue reading Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye…

I grew up in the Alaskan Bush, far from towns and neighborhoods. My formative years were spent mushing dogs, riding snowmachines, skating on the Big Pond, exploring the benches behind our house in March when the crust of the snow was just right...so when October rolled around, the only thing we were ever excited about … Continue reading Hallowe’en…What’s So Great About It?

In the summer of 1967, I was 9 years old and we had only lived at Sherman for three years.  We were blissfully ignorant about Alaska’s capricious weather, and little did we know that this was going to be a summer none of us would ever forget. Our house still had a flat tarpaper roof. … Continue reading Summer 1967: Who’ll Stop the Rain?

I grew up on a homestead located thirty-two miles north of Talkeetna, Alaska. In the early 1970s, we had a winter that was particularly hard on the wild animals in our area. There’s a trickledown effect when the winter is harsh and food is scarce, and lynx are as affected by this as any other … Continue reading The Day the Dog Did Not Die

Growing up in Alaska meant that our extended families were very far away. In the early 1960s, when we were homesteading at Sherman, money was in short supply and we didn’t take trips Outside. Our extended families lived mainly in California and Missouri…might as well have been the moon. My grandmothers were really the only … Continue reading Grandmothers

This week our prompt is supposed to be “It was the summer of…” but I have already written one of those about The Summer from Hell which you can read at https://shermancityhall.com/2015/11/20/the-hardship-that-i-am-most-thankful-for/. I have lived for sixty summers…to most people, summer is a wonderful time of freedom, long warm nights and all the things we … Continue reading Summer is LIFE…

This photograph is an important part of my family’s history. Most of my uncles and great-uncles served in World War II – both theatres of operation – and only one of them did not come back: 1st Lt. Chester David Jaques. He was a B-17 pilot in the 8th Air Force of the Army Air … Continue reading Every Picture Tells a Story…Don’t It?

The last time I wrote a blog entry was way back in September 2017...that was not long after the Fall semester began. A word of advice: if possible...DO NOT take three history classes at the same time - particularly if two of these courses are upper division and the third is needlessly complicated. If memory … Continue reading Goodness, It Has Been Awhile…The Conference

About a month ago, I was talking with my mother on the phone. She said that a friend told her Phil Rouillier (pronounced ROOLYER) was dead. No, I said…that can’t be. Phil can’t be dead. But he was. And he is. I am so sad… I met Phil when I was very young. He was … Continue reading Phil…