Rhoda Turinsky: Spontaneous Adventure

Coming to Anchorage in September 1958 turned out to be much more of a thrill in my unknowing state of mind than I could ever have imagined. About six months earlier, my husband, Jimmy, had looked at the New York Times Travel Section, headlined “Alaska to be the 49th State.” As simple as it could ever be, he turned to me and asked, “How would you like to live in Alaska?” With no children, no financial encumbrances, and being an adventurous soul, I answered, “OK!” Having been brought up with “Whither thou goest, I will go,” we agreed he would go first, and, if he liked it, I’d follow later by plane.

In May 1958, Jimmy drove the Alaska Highway to Anchorage with all our earthly possessions. He was here for the statehood bonfire where the whole community rallied by bringing their old furniture to burn in celebration of the coming statehood. Probably some heirlooms were lost in that fire.

In September 1958, I left New York by plane to join Jimmy. There were no more than twenty passengers on the plane; my curiosity got the better of me because the remainder of the plane was filled with huge boxes measuring four-feet-by-four-feet, no more than 16 inches thick. When I inquired as to the contents, the answer was “Hula Hoops!” Chubby Checker was the new voice, and the Twist was all the rage. Hula Hoops, I guess, took priority over more passengers.

My seating companion was going home to Alaska. She was the daughter of the owner of Marlatt’s Bakery at the top of Romig Hill. I hung on every word as she described her life; the way she talked, life in Alaska sounded so joyous and natural, wonderful and free. I was amazed that they could camp out for days on end wherever they chose, with no regulations. She was so enthralled with Alaska, that’s the feeling she left me with, too. I got off the plane, threw up my arms, and said, “Hey, God, I’m home!”

Jimmy and I rented an apartment at 3rd Avenue and E Street. They were called the E and E Apartments. The Anchorage Daily News had a tiny office at the corner of 3rd and E, across from the Westward Hotel, which is now the Hilton. The first day, I walked down 3rd Avenue to L Street, then over to 4th Avenue and back, so I wouldn’t get lost. Storefront doors were open, and people called out, “Hi, y’all!” I thought half of Texas was in Alaska.

Jimmy and I found jobs. He worked as a maintenance man at Providence Hospital on 9th Avenue and L Street, where Benihana’s restaurant now sits. I was hired immediately as a hairdresser at the Westward Hotel Beauty Salon.

The highlight of my life in Alaska was doing makeup for Anchorage Community Theatre for three years. I suppose my claim to fame is when I was in charge of all the makeup for Frank Brink’s Cry of the Wild Ram, Alaska’s history in pageant form. This play was written and directed by Frank; it centered on Alexander Baranov’s stories about the early Russian settlements in Alaska.

Cry of the Wild Ram was performed around 1961 at West High School by adult actors. Jo Brink, Frank’s wife, worked with him doing much research for authentic and proper costuming and stage design. It was noted in Little Theater magazine, a national publication, that Frank Brink’s play was the largest use of artificial hair that had ever been used in little theater productions.

In 1962, Elsie Martin, a hairdresser friend, and I decided to open our own salon. Neither one of us had a nickel to spare, so we went to First National Bank with a word of credit reference from Arctic Beauty Supply. We each borrowed $1,000, and we were ready to open our business. We had more money than we had ever had in our lives. We found a vacancy in a building near the corner of Northern Lights and Arctic Boulevards, in the area called Spenard. We named our salon Coiffure Cache. When we told our customers of our new venture, most everyone said, “Do you really think people are going all the way to Spenard to get their hair done?” Well, they did. Clients followed us, including Wilma Carr and Natalie Gottstein, two of our regular customers who were very well-known people in Anchorage; their husbands were the founders of Carr’s grocery stores.

Later, Elsie and I found out that the Aurora Village Shopping Center was to be built at Northern Lights Boulevard and Minnesota Drive, so we reserved space to move our shop there. We were very excited because it was Anchorage’s first mall though it had only six stores. It was 1967 and we thought we were a hot number moving into Anchorage’s first enclosed shopping center with a heated entryway! Our salon was very successful. Alaska was young, and it was truly the land of opportunity; everyone was willing to jump out and do adventurous things, try new things.

Statehood was exciting. It was changing everything about Alaska. Anchorage was a small, bustling community. There was a whole lot of nothing on Northern Lights Boulevard, and we picked blueberries where Chuck E. Cheese’s is now located. In those days, you could let it all hang out. It seemed funny to go to West High for plays and see people in bunny boots and Carhartts standing next to others in formal wear and furs. No one paid any attention. Everyone was accepted at face value. Truly, coming to Alaska has brought my life change, growth, and excitement.



Rhoda (Wilson) Turinsky was born in Far Rockaway, Long Island, New York.  She came to Alaska in 1958 and was a hairdresser for over twenty years. She later owned a Rent-a Mom franchise, which provided in-home nanny services. She still occasionally works as a nanny and can be seen driving around Anchorage with a “Grandma-for-Rent” sign on the side of her Subaru. Turinsky has had a long-time interest in nutrition and has been a distributor of Shaklee nutritional supplements since 1969. She has three children, Catherine, Elizabeth, and Paul.