The Adventures of Bill the Galactic Hero
Chapter 13

February 21st 2006, having left my cell phone in my car I attended a mandatory network training class. Nothing new covered but a reassurance that all would be on the sam page as far as layout and diagnostic techniques.

About half way thru the meeting my stomach started knotting. Broke out in a cold sweat, shivering and sucking air as if I couldn't get enough oxygen, thought all I have to do is hold out to the end of the meeting then go home. After the meeting, returned to my desk to find 11 missed calls, taking the first message, it was from the Cherokee Country Sheriff\ufffds Department advising a call home.

Dialed the house, my son Joe answered in tears.
\ufffdJoe! whats going on? Let me talk to Momma\ufffd, he put my wife on who said \ufffdcome home!\ufffd before she broke into screaming tears. A Sheriff Deputy replaced her.
\ufffdSir? You need to come home\ufffd
Knowing that the only thing that would make my wife that disconsolate and the presence of the Deputy made it clear. \ufffdWhich child is it?\ufffd

The deputy replied \ufffdSir, its best if you come home\ufffd

\ufffdMr.\ufffd I said perhaps more forcefully that I meant to \ufffdI have four children, which one is it!\ufffd

\ufffdYour oldest son\ufffd was his reply.

I found my boss, informed him and he said go, come back when you can. Luckily I have a stick shift which enabled reflexes to keep road attention, in an automatic I might have drifted off and hit someone. My oldest child, gone.

Arriving at home I could see paramedics taking a body bag from my son\ufffds living quarters, my yard full of cruisers with the light bars cycling slowly. My wife came out to meet me, shock, fear and despair on her face as she told me what happened, while I held her close. A sergeant approached me.

\ufffdI want to see my son\ufffd I stated.

A chaplain escorted my wife to one side so I could talk.

\ufffdI wouldn't advise it sir\ufffd said the sergeant, \ufffd It would not be a good idea.\ufffd

I repeated \ufffdI will see my son before you remove him, regardless of how he looks\ufffd

The sergeant looked pained, his eyes were wet as if he personally wished he hadn't viewed the scene. \ufffdSir, he really doesn't look good, please, spare yourself\ufffd


\ufffdI will see him before you take the body\ufffd my son dammit, I brought him into the world, held him. Consoled him, laughed at him, scolded him, loved him.

The sergeant asked if I would speak to the chaplain first, and had the paramedics load the body bag into the transport while the chaplain tried to talk me out of it. I was insistent. Climbed into the van next to my son\ufffds head. The bag was already sealed by a evidence lock. The sergeant tried one more time, \ufffdI don't think you want to do this, you will regret seeing him that way.\ufffd

Stone faced I looked at him \ufffd you see that woman crying there? She found him like he looks now, how can I disrespect her and expect her to carry that memory alone? I must see the same thing so we can share our pain.\ufffd

The detective on the scene nodded to the paramedic to break the seal. and I unzipped the bag to his chest. I wont go into detail here as the sergeant was right in his way, but he is my son, so I bear the difficulty, not anyone else.

I held his cheek and said, \ufffdMy son, I cant help you any more, G_d please take care of my son.\ufffd and let the paramedics ready him for the coroner.

Some smarmy guy kept trying to give me hugs, and saying he would \ufffdminister me\ufffd I assume he was just trying his best but I found out later he was the business agent for the local megachurch so my instincts must have been right. Holding my wife I got details, not good ones. I asked a deputy if they knew a Catholic priest as my wife is Catholic and my children are born ins. The baptist boy gave it one last shot but I held my need to commit violence upon his person and thanked him and said I would much prefer a priest.

The local father appeared and my wife and 11 year old son appeared to take comfort, it then became my job to do the notifications. Called Mary\ufffds brother in Bethel Alaska to let that side of the family know, then my brother to inform my side. We decided my son should be buried at home in Hooper Bay Alaska. A small village of Yupik peoples much like a reservation in the lower 48. They are us, we are a tribe. I myself am considered by them to be one of them.

The joys of funeral home came next. Luckily the Woodstock funeral home is a professionally run outfit that had never had to deal with transport to a place that seems to exist only on maps with no local funeral home to coordinate things. As I explained to the Director that it must be an open casket and to do everything he could to make that happen. He understood. My son made it to the village before us and my brother in law Fred said he looked really good.

I informed my son's friends and finally met his girlfriend in person, she could not speak. All of his friends filled our house and told us how much he meant to them. ood people, all of them.

My brother Bruce, his wife, my mother and my niece flew down to Georgia to help us get ready to go north in a hurry. My mother has visited rural Alaska and understood she wouldn't be able to cope, my brother took more persuading. \ufffdlook, there is no place to stay, we are already 10 of us in a 800 square foot house, no running water, food you are unaccustomed to and a boatload of money to get there.\ufffd I told him this summer we would have another service at my fathers grave site so my side of the family could grieve properly.

Thanks to Northwest Airlines we got bereavement fares to Anchorage but the well was dry. My brother in law found funds to get us all the way to the village so we left Georgia on Friday the 25th of February.

We arrived in Anchorage to 15F light winds and iced roads. Rented a Chevy trailblazer (what a piece of crap) went to spend the night at my nieces home.

After greeting all the sisters I was standing in the living room when someone's arms encircled me and someone cried \ufffdBill, Im so sorry!\ufffd

I turned, I have many pictures of her, my daughter but here is this beautiful 16 year old young lady almost looking me in the eye, she took my breath away. I havnt seen her since she was four. My lord, we were crying and bonding. My daughter, finally but what a sad way to meet.

The next leg of the trip was via that nightmare of the airline industry, Alaska Airlines. We check in with plenty of time. The Jet due to take us to bethel arrived from elsewhere about an hour late. A nice blizzard was starting up. Just as we were due to board they announced a mechanical malfunction. (in the last week they have had 7 pressurization malfunctions on their rural flights.) After finding another plane, loading 4 wheelchair patients, deicing (again) we finally flew to Bethel. As we were landing the pilot\ufffds voice came over the tannoy \ufffdSorry for the delay today folks, please think of us and give us a call when you want to travel \ufffd then \ufffdOh I fogot, you dont have a choice!\ufffd yeah, Alaska Airlines.

Hadnt eaten since tuesday, just a handfull of snack stuff. Even my beloved Rum and coke didnt tasted like medicinal ashes, and I couldnt have any. Went to my brother in law Allen\ufffds house. He put a package of moose jerky on the table so I stated to snack, just to be chewing something. A plate of dried fish came out then he asked if I wanted some seal oil with that. It had been 6 years since I tasted any so said sure. Somehow that fish and sealoil bacame nectar, melting on my tongue, I could not get enough.
My wife \ufffdDont eat so much, you are not used to it, you will get cheeqiq\ufffd a coloqial yupik word for the tijuana street food dance. I slowed down long enough to eat some moose rib soup. The entire 7 days I was gone the only qussiq (whiteman from the russian cossack) food I ate was a ham sandwhich because I was too lazy to dig in the freezer. My wife had some effects from eating too much seal oil but my system knows how to handle it. It amazes folks that have never eaten dinner with me up there that I truly enjoy the food. Most whites either cant stand the flavor or get violently ill. Me, its a preferred food.

We arrived in Hooper Bay 2 days after we left Georgia. We flew a DeHavilland Twin Otter to the village, maybe sometime I can digress with mickey over the wondrous electronics they have now. Truly amazing. Arriving at the airport we were met by a convoy of snowmachines to take us to my mother-in-law\ufffds house, our home away from home.

In the living room, centered under the picture window was my son\ufffds coffin. The funeral home did a treamendous job! He looked extremely peaceful wearing his suit, his trademark Angus Young red tie and his suit which he wore on alternate days when he wasnt wearing tiedye or gothic stuff.
Surrounding the coffin were 20 chairs, lots of visitors and more on the way bringing food and song. (thanx doc, song is what we do up there) My last visit there was nine years ago, the kids are grown, having kids, my heart broke then washed ashore with visiting and catching up.

The gospel singers showed up. Muan (Aron) in his 70\ufffds \ufffdMy wife died 2 years ago, but this kip me goin\ufffd I asked him where his dogs were, he used to keep quite a few sled dogs, he looked confused for a minute and said \ufffdtwo, nobuddy innerested\ufffd. (I would like to capture in prose the speaking cadence of these folks as it is unique. Their diction and grammer is excellent, the accent can best be described as hissing sybilants but the pauses are much longer than you and I are accustomed to.so will give up and write it straight, )

They sang all the good songs most folks are familiar with but in Yupik, more folks drift in and out the house becoming completely packed with 40 or more people at a time to visit with us, pay respect to my son and to us. At 3:30 am Alaskan time I found a wall to slump against for a nap. At 6:30 am I woke up stiff and found just a few people. I told my wife to take a break while I sat shiva for us.

A few early morning folk came by then my 14yo troublesome son showed up. We had a chance to talk. He didnt realize that so many people knew his brother. I pointed out that they knew him as well as they were all family, either directly or indirectly related to him. \ufffdYou, them, me, us we are a tribe. Sure we fight amongst ourselves but the whole is greater than the individual and no matter where in the world you are, you are from here, this special place where we are always welcome with open arms.and the land greets us.\ufffd

By Monday morning my wife and I decided we need o have the burial that day as it had been almost a week. The village priest came over and we filled out a list of who does what readings etc and it fell to me to do the eulogy. My brother in law Allen would read it while I stood next to him. My now eldest son led the procession of snowmachines to the church bearing a cross with his brother strapped into a sled. The Deacon pealed the church bell to call the village to the funeral. He was placed in front of the pulpit while my family and myself sat front and center.

Well he rewrote the front part of the eulogy in the hobbit manner of northern peoples, who my son was related to on our side and the many families in the region he was related to via my wife. Afterwords I teased him that he was trying to set up younger son for a political seat in the future, much like a jersey pol will relate clans and cousins at gatherings, but here was my contribution

\ufffdQuirran, from a young age, showed he had a big heart. In the city, his kindness was evident when he\ufffdd give his eating money away to people who needed the money more than him. Another example was how he could relate to some of the smaller children in Hooper Bay in a way only they could understand.

Quirran loved music, and always played his guitar. He hated discrimination of any kind and would stand up for himself and others if infringed. He also loved \ufffdmagic\ufffd especially making coins appear from children\ufffds ears.

He had family and friends who loved him. I dont hope this I know because we spoke of this, and he understood. In Georgia he had friends and family. In Hooper Bay he had family and friends.

Although young, he felt the pain and sorrow of a man. He has paid the price of mankind. He is a man.

Go in peace my son\ufffd

Well Allen lost his mud on the last two paragraphs so I spoke those, ringingly, then started to lose it myself. We got off the pulpit and those of you who are familiar with catholic ritual will recognise the next part. Two uncles stand at the head of the casket with a towel. A bowl of holy water is placed so all those who wish can make the sign of the cross on his forhead.

For my beliefs the low point has been reached, the nescessaries are almost complete and living can resume.

The elders were first. The Deacon followed by the female elders tottered from their place of honor to the casket. The deacon blessed my son the leaned and whispered to me \ufffdbe strong, bless you\ufffd then proceeded to my wife.The female elders, none a day under 75, dreesed in kuspuks a flowery hooded dress looking like benign ring wraithes with tartar countenances and big smiles. Their translucent skin shone in the light, the first one bet to my ear and I gasped! An eagle talon gripped my upper arm, nails piercing my skin. A fierce harsh whisper reached my ear\ufffdbe strong! you start howling, they all start howling and we never get out of here!\ufffd

Damn near burst out laughing, as they have correctly judged the crowd but didnt realize I was over the hump already. My wife said \ufffdOh yes, I have to be for the children\ufffd

The rest of the people started going b. I realized that all the girls between the age of 15 thru 18 were just howling. I was impressed, there hasnt been that much crying by that many girls since John Holmes coworkers after he announced he had aids (I know completely innapropriate but swear thats what ran thru my head at the time). He had a lot of very beautiful young ladies that really thought a lot of him.

We then proceeded to the outdoors. A crypt made of plywood was nailed around the coffin, we then proceeded to the cemetary. We found a spot next to his aunt Barbara who passed away several years ago. He was fond of her and now they will be side by side. The Priest did the usual and ended with the common prayer. It was blowing and snowing with subzero temps. My feet were to blocks of ice. (no big foot boots in the village so just my leather hiking boots)
I lifted up my arms unto the sky , \ufffdG_D 17 years ago I took my oldest child at his birth and held him into the air and dedicated him to you. You have now reclaimed him, I am your servant.\ufffd at that point in time the sky cleared, 2 sun dogs appeared. I have this on film. Amazing. I was in great peace when I went home. First degree frostbite on my toes though.

We took a few days to decompress and visit. People I had not seen in a very long time would wave and say welcome home. Spent time reminicing with folks who were around when I put the first automated grocery checkout system up there. Good doins, good times. I am back in Georgia and after a day of putting miscellaneous things together tommorow I will be back to work. Like I told my 8 yearold daughter, we can still talk to him, we just cant hear or touch him anymore, he isnt gone until we forget.
thanx,
bill
copyrighted material no publishing without permission of the author
William Oxley