Barbara (Erickson) Jordan: Anchorage from 1939 as Seen Through the Eyes of a Child

I would be six in October of 1939 and was looking forward to starting school in Minden, Nevada. Instead, four months before school was to start, I found myself in Alaska. My father, Walter Erickson, flipped a quarter to see whether we would move to Alaska or Australia; it came up Alaska. That’s where his father had gone to find his fortune during the gold rush at the turn of the twentieth century. He did make a fortune, and he invested it by constructing a fine new building in downtown Pueblo, Colorado. As happened with so many of the gold rush miners, my grandfather went broke. The building with its imported Italian marble was so fine that he was unable to rent it for enough to cover its cost.

In 1939, no commercial airlines flew to Alaska. You had three choices: come by boat, walk, or stay away. We boarded the SS Alaska in Seattle bound for Seward and took the train to Anchorage. Most of the passengers on the ship were seasick, but I enjoyed the trip. At first I tried to count the waves but soon gave up because there were so many. From the Anchorage train station, my mother, father, sister, and I walked up the hill to the Anchorage Hotel carrying the luggage and my one-year-old brother.

In 1939 Anchorage had fewer than 4,000 people. All the streets were dirt. (I learned later that during breakup, if you didn’t walk on a plank, you sank to your knees in the mud.) My father looked for a place for us to live but couldn’t find anything, so he bought a tent and set it up at 10th and L streets. The golf course, which also was the airplane landing strip, was right across the street. When an airplane came over, it circled, and the golfers got off to the side to let it land.

My father got a job at the power plant at Eklutna. There was a cluster of houses across from the big concrete structure, and we lived in one of them. The daughter of the plant superintendent lived in another. Beverly was my age. Instead of sending us to a school, our mothers taught us by correspondence courses from the Calvert School. Later we moved to Anchorage, and I attended the grade school on 5th Avenue. At the time, there was only the one grade school and one high school.

My father built a big house on Verde Lane in Spenard. We raised chickens and goats, and my mother had a garden. Every year, Dad got a moose and sometimes a caribou. When the salmon were running, Mom sent me to Chester Creek to get a fish. I would just reach in and grab one. She canned the meat, and we had plenty of potatoes and other vegetables to last the winter. We usually went to Lucky’s Market on 4th Avenue to get flour, sugar, coffee, and canned vegetables. Mom bought fabric at the Northern Commercial Company and made most of my clothes. She sometimes ordered from the Sears and Roebuck catalog; it took six weeks for a package to arrive. One Christmas, Sears substituted an orange hat for the pink one that would match my pink jacket. Mom was heartbroken.

The city limits were at 9th Avenue, and kids who lived in the city walked to school. Spenard was out in the country at that time, and there were just a few houses. In the wintertime a panel truck picked up four of us in Spenard, then went up to Government Hill to pick up several others and took us to school. Sometimes on a nice winter day, I would walk to school. If there was snow on the ground, when I got to Romig Hill I sat on my lunch box and slid down as far as I could go.

For a girl of nine, World War II was a very scary time. We had to put black Celotex over the windows to keep any light from showing. When the Japanese invaded the Aleutians, we were afraid that we would be next. The only way out of the city was by railroad to Seward. Only small planes could land on the golf course, and no big boats came to Anchorage. Soldiers on maneuvers often came near our house. When I saw them come by with all their guns and gear, it was very frightening—especially when I heard them say that the airstrip had been captured. I didn’t know it was just practice.

It was especially frightening when some of my friends were rounded up and shipped out. We didn’t know why until much later. The Kimuras were one Japanese-American family that was taken to a concentration camp in California. The parents owned Snow White Laundry and a popular Chinese restaurant. Their children were smart and well liked and my good friends.

Beverly and I liked to ice skate. We put on shows during Fur Rendezvous at the rink on Mulcahy Stadium at 16th Avenue and C Street. My Dad built the sets and helped keep the ice in good shape. I went to the rink during school lunch hour and was often in trouble because I wouldn’t get back on time. Fortunately, my teachers were understanding, and when I got sent to the office the principal, Mr. Graham, just said, “You again?” and had me sit on a chair outside his office. When I was in high school, my sister Lois picked up the attendance slips every day, and she’d give me “what for” but didn’t tattle on me when we got home.

There was plenty for teenagers to do back then. I was often busy with chores, and I babysat a lot. We went to church every Sunday. When I was in high school, going to the movies was very popular. There were two movie theaters, the Empress and the 4th Avenue. We went swimming at Lake Spenard in the summer. My friends, twins Eva and Elva Frary, and I couldn’t wait for the ice to go out. Sometimes we’d jump in with our clothes on. Once, we took our clothes off, but an airplane flew over, and we had to stay in the water a long time until it went away.

Our house did not have electricity until 1946. We used a hand pump to get water from the well. There was no indoor plumbing. We had gas lanterns to read by. Mom cooked on a coal stove that also heated our house. Dad got coal from the Jonesville Mine north of Palmer. The house was two-story, so the upstairs was pretty warm. For entertainment, we listened to a battery-powered radio. We could only listen to the news and to the comedy shows that were on every Sunday night. KFQD was the first radio station and has one of the first licenses issued in the whole United States. They got the news by Morse code and read it over the air. Anchorage didn’t have television until 1954. Then the networks shipped up the films, so we saw the TV shows two weeks after they aired Outside.

Things back when I was young were a lot different than today. People visited a lot, and everyone got along pretty well. Sharing was a way of life, and people had to do things for themselves because there weren’t as many services available.

I remember the “good old days” fondly. But I have to admit that I appreciate modern conveniences like TV and indoor plumbing.

Providence Hospital opened on L Street the year we got here. I was one of their first patients when my tonsils were removed. Now we have the most modern facilities and best doctors anywhere. I don’t see any reason to leave.

Barbara (Erickson) Jordan was born in Monte Vista, Colorado, coming with her family to Anchorage in 1939. They first lived in a tent across from today’s Park Strip before moving to Spenard. She graduated from Anchorage High School in 1951 and shortly thereafter became the bride of Lee Jordan. She was an accomplished figure skater with Olympic aspirations, performing in several Fur Rendezvous ice shows. The Jordans moved to Chugiak in 1962, where they remain. Her grandfather participated in the Gold Rush at Nome. In 1971 the Jordans founded the Chugiak-Eagle River Star newspaper and operated it for thirty years. She also owned Frontier Fabric and Crafts, a very popular supplier for local seamstresses and craftspeople. In retirement, Jordan’s creative talents are put to use in making banners for Eagle River Presbyterian Church, where she is a charter member and deacon. She has four children, nine grandchildren, and four great-grandsons.