Thirty-six years ago, my two daughters were just little gals and I was terrified by the responsibilities of my new single-parent role. Piecing together a life for us in Ninilchik also meant piecing together employment opportunities out of what was available.
On May 25, my marimba band Shamwari played for the opening day of the Homer Farmers’ Market. One of the tunes I play is Warigamukono, a traditional Zimbabwean song. The title means “pulling the bull to the ground” and is about overcoming adversity. As I played, I thought of my mother, who had been medevaced from Summit Lake Lodge in July 2012 and almost died from respiratory arrest. Mom’s doing much better, but she faces continual challenges. She’s in my thoughts constantly.
Vic Fischer had me at hello. From the moment he stepped to the microphone at a classroom on the Kachemak Bay Campus, the 88-year-old Alaska icon awed his audience with unscripted stories of a life that took him from his boyhood in Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia to a seat at the table in Fairbanks, where Alaska's Constitution was written during the brutal winter of 1955-56.