Spring is in the air, and I was down at North Star Lumber picking up some materials to repair another winter’s assault on our abode.
With the sun finally out, it’s an enjoyable annual rite. The goal is getting much of the work done before the bugs and slugs join the fray.
Tyee Lohse was ahead of me, chatting with top-notch building specialists Brian Speer and Don Scutt. It’s part of the routine when visiting North Star, which also conveniently has copies of the long-term weather forecast printed out to inspire larger purchases prior to inevitable so’easters. Working in the roof drip line is not fun when it’s raining.
Tyee had a helper with him, namely his three-year-old son Tanner. The lad had on a loose fitting sweatshirt, thoroughly tousled hair, and a pair of jeans with legs rolled up at least three wraps. Absent was any footwear.
Nails and screws spilled from nearby rotating tray racks are common on the cement floor, but Trey didn’t seem concerned. “We have a heck of a time getting him to put on shoes or boots, so I guess he’ll learn the hard way.”
Things can be slow at North Star in the winter, and from the counter there’s a great view of Mt. Eyak. Brian likes to snowboard when the opportunity arises, so I mentioned seeing this young Mr. Lohse riding the rope tow on the Bunny Hill. “You ought to see him go,” I commented. “He holds to rope over his head.”
Brian: “What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s so short he can’t hold it under his arm, so he grabs it with outstretched arms, and off he goes.”
Clearly, he’s going to be another one of those strong Lohse lads.
Then I thanked Tyee for bringing my passport to Anchorage. By now, Brian is really scratching his head.
Photo courtesy
of Dick Shellhorn.
Turns out while I was up in Anchorage to broadcast the State 2A tournament on March 16-18, I cleverly managed to lose my wallet – the first time in 45 years of broadcasting travel.
Referee friend Mike Lyle had shown up to watch the Cordova boys play their opening round game against Unalakleet, and had invited me out to dinner after the contest.
Locals may know him. Mike has come down several times to officiate the Cordova Tipoff, and was a big favorite of Stella Janson, Mae Lange, and Kay Sherman. When he didn’t show up, they would ask: “Where is that nice white-haired referee from Anchorage?”
We had gone to a nice Italian place, and in the traditional scrum to pay for the meal, while digging out a credit card, my wallet had fallen out in the booth, which I didn’t notice until the next morning on my way to broadcast Cordova’s second game.
After Cordova lost that one, they were done for the season, so I decided to bump up plans to head to Austin, Texas, to meet up with my wife Sue a day sooner. She was already there, enjoying spring break with our daughter Heidi and her husband Scott, along with our grandkids Huck and Liesl. We had been Facetiming with the troops, who at ages 4 and 2, were eager to see how quickly they could wear out Gramma and Grampa.
Well, now things get interesting. I’ve still got my credit card, but no ID. How am I going to get on the early Saturday plane my wife has lined up? Plus now I’m driving a rental car without a license.
Luckily, it’s spring break for teachers in Cordova. I call our daughter Gretchen, and ask her to check with Police Chief Mike Hicks for advice. She says instead: “Wait. Do you have your passport? If not, I’ll go down to your house, get it, and send it up with someone coming up on the jet from Cordova today. That way you’ll have ID to get on the plane, and also get a new license, if there’s time.”
Thank goodness for daughters.
So Gretchen and my granddaughter Ellie roar down to our house, dig out my passport, and race out to the Mile 13 Airport. They check the terminal for passengers that could hand carry it up to me. Several are on connecting flights, and not sure if they can pass it to me through security. So guess who comes to the rescue?
“I saw Gretchen wandering around”, said Trey. “ I said I’d be happy to help.”
So at 1:40 pm I’m standing at the bottom of the Anchorage airport escalator to baggage claim when here comes the Lohse gang, Tyee, his wife Kanisha, Tanner, and their little new daughter Akalya.
Guess who’s having the time of his life riding the moving stairs? And guess who has a grin on his face as he hands me the passport?
I race down to the Anchorage DMV, which has 40 service stations arranged in a semicircle and seating for waiting customers. To see a clerk, you wait for your number to pop up on an overhead screen and be announced over the PA. It’s repeated three times, and then skips to the next lucky person. Reminded me of a bingo parlor.
The place was packed, with a line out the door. Naturally, demand peaks late Friday. My number was R789, I think. Yet by 4 pm, I had a new temporary driver’s license.
At 4:30 pm, I was back at the Italian place, which I had tried to call earlier, but didn’t open until 4 pm. Guess who had my wallet, plus a cellphone that belonged to Mike Lyle.
No wonder he didn’t answer my calls for help during the day.
Dick Shellhorn, author, reporter, ref and grandpa, can be reached at shorn@gci.net. Shellhorn was born and raised in Cordova, Alaska, and has lived there his entire life. Shellhorn has been writing sports stories for the Cordova Times for over 40 years. In his Cordova Chronicles features, he writes about the history and characters of this Alaska town.
