Howard Luke, 1923-2019

Today is the Equinox and the official first day of Fall, and we got our first frost, and I took some lovely photos to share. Then I learned about the passing of Uncle Howard Luke. I have no words that are big enough to convey what this man has meant to so many. I feel really honored and humbled that my life overlapped with his for even a brief time, and that such a widely beloved and treasured Elder always made time for me when I visited him at his camp on the other side of the Tanana. At his camp, he was the last resident at the site of the Athabascan village of Chena. Behind his camp is an Athabascan cemetary. When Chena was still an active village of many residents, he said a day's boat ride upriver into downtown Fairbanks (what was then the entire city of Fairbanks) was eight hours! Today it is a ten minute drive. His last few years, he was at the Denali Center, where Roo and I had the honor of spending more time with him.

He told me lots of things--to live right in order to protect my "Gaalee’ya", which he translated to English as "luck", but which I later deduced meant more like karma. To be kind, good, responsible, and respectful of the land, people, and animals. He told me how to heal up an infected wound on my hand (with spruce pitch), and he told me that his mom and his beloved last dog, Schatze, "came to visit" him at night. After that, I never say that I "dream about" passed beloved ones. I say that they come to visit me! He told me never to strip off my parka when I get warm outdoors, because cold air on uninsulated skin could make you freeze to death. One day I saw him at camp fussing with a live trap. A weasel had been stealing his drymeat, and he didn't want to kill it, just trap and relocate it. "unless you want him?" he asked. I declined, but helped him set the trap.

As he passed time in the Denali Center, he was sometimes melancholy. "I used to be so busy", he said. "But now I just sit here." My heart ached for him, even though he had excellent medical care and frequent visitors from family, friends, and admirers. But a life well-lived is not a life easily relinquished for a sedentary one, and he continued to fade. One day, he said to me, "You know, I've lived a very good life. I've traveled the world and known many people!" I told him I agreed, and more than that, he had taught his lessons and skills to so many young people, both Native and not. He listened carefully, but I think at that point he could already hear his mom and Schatze calling.

I will think of him back at camp, sharing pots of strong tea and chatting around his iron stove, surrounded by his family and friends and with his Schatze at his side.

In Interior Alaska, the height of Fall's beauty is over before the official first day of Fall. Most of the gorgeous yellow leaves have fallen, and the trees are a bit on the bare side. This year, we had our first frost on this day! It feels rather fitting, to think of the rich, incredible beauty in a dying world, and to think further that "dying" is only temporary, that life will come around again in the spring. So it is that every person passes, but their memories and lessons relive themselves in the following generations. Look how beautiful it was this morning. It's like everything was coated with sugar.











This evening, the light was beautiful and golden. Of course I had to take photos of the dogs!







Goodnight, Uncle Howard. Please say hello to Autumn and Linden for me. You will remember when we skijored out to visit you at camp!

Here is a link to his obituary. It is lovely and obviously written by family.