By Tyrone A Moore
Yes an innocent glass of wine did it. Now who would have thought that something so frivolous as a glass of wine, would be the start of no return?
Even my sister Rosita use to go over to my brother’s house to help out. She had stopped because she said it got too crazy over there. Just like many times I have gone over to my brother’s house, he was an ass-hole to me, also by slapping me and telling me to shut up!
One day, Rosita said Samuel had jumped on his wife, while she was at their house–all because his wife did not wake him up to watch a boxing match.
Samuel always watched the fights, but on this particular day, he had passed out due to excessive drinking–that he was accustom to doing frequently. Still suffering from wounds afflicted upon her in a fight with my brother previously, Pat was struck across the face reopening a cut that was sewn together with stitches.
He had hit her so hard, that blood came gushing out from her face! Pat went running across the street with blood still streaming down her cheek leaving a trail on the sidewalk.
“Help me please!” as she frantically pounded on the neighbor’s door. “I need help.” Fearing for her life, she ran inside as soon as the door was opened! Once the ambulance and police arrived, she was escorted out by an officer, and two paramedics.
Giving the police officers a full description of my brother Samuel, and what all had happened, the two officers asked Samuel for his side of the incident. In a hot minute, handcuffs were slapped on both wrists tightly!
The Anchorage Police Department did not like Hispanics, and you could tell by the way they threw Samuel into the back of their squad car. Samuel did not help his situation out much by being sloppy drunk either, and beating up a little red headed Caucasian woman. So he was hauled off to jail, and justifiably so. And believe it or not, my mother was upset at Pat for calling the police on my brother!
Samuel was a mean son-of-a-bitch, mom either couldn’t see that, or she just didn’t want to–and she had always stuck up for him–no matter what! I know she never called the police on my dad for beating her up. That wasn’t something you did to your husband. Beatings came with being married in her days. Calling the law on your husband was just unheard of.
The boys in the family were treated like royalty, and the girls in the family, were treated like slaves for the men. So when Samuel and his wife separated, he moved back home immediately. It was fun while it lasted not having him in the house for a while. Now that Samuel was back home, I needed something to do, to get me out of the house as much as possible. And since I was treated like an outcast from everyone in my family, they could care less what I did, as long as I was out of the hair.
I started going over to Francis house to play as a last resort. One day while playing over at Francis’s house, I met a wonderful couple named George, and Ethel. They used to come over to visit with Francis’s parents. George and Ethel was around my mom and dad’s age, and they took to me like bees to honey.
George’s wife was extremely nice to me. Francis dad and George, worked for the same truck company–although George and Ethel lived only fifteen minutes away in Northeast Anchorage, the drive for them was nothing. George and his wife wanted to come over and meet my parents.
My dad and George hit it off right away! George was a grande (big) hefty–bald headed Caucasian man. His wife Ethel wasn’t Mexican or Puerto Rican. I don’t know what nationality she was. I know she wasn’t Caucasian either. Ethel was a very smart lady with a deep voice.
She had a nice figure, dark curly-brown hair, that she wore at shoulder length. She had learned everything about hunting, and driving big rig trucks, from her husband George. When he had to drive across country, she would help him drive these monstrous trucks.
Their choice of family transportation was a big white pick-up truck, that George loved to sport around town. It was a very gorgeous truck that was massive in size, with a boot on the back that covered the rear bed. His truck was so clean and shiny, that it made the sun look inferior!
Even though he didn’t have a fishing boat, George and Ethel loved to go fishing anyways. In Alaska there were so many places to fish for the locals, and for tourists.
Little Campbell Lake in Kincaid Park was a favorite spot for rainbow trout, landlocked salmon, and arctic char. Sand Lke in South Anchorage boasts pan-sized trout, salmon, and the voracious northern pike. Other good bets were Jewel Lake and Eklutna Lake where you can pursue rainbow trout, dolly varden, and silver salmon.
Fishing around the Anchorage Bowl, it is truly a taste of both the urban and the wild, all mixed up together in a way that could only be possible in a wild land like Alaska. You can find all five species of Pacific salmon here, along with freshwater species such as rainbow trout, Dolly Varden, grayling, lake trout and more. All the popular fishing areas are in places you can drive to, and many of these places offer amenities such as barbecue/picnic areas, restroom facilities, wheelchair access, clean water, and even camping.
At the same time, you can find moose, black bears and grizzly bears along the shores, or perusing the banks of the streams much as a shopper cruises the aisles of a supermarket in search of tonight’s dinner. It’s tame and it’s wild at the same time.
But caution: The mud along the shores of Cook Inlet is comprised of very fine glacial silt. Walking along the outlet streams that drain directly into the Inlet is extremely treacherous, and a number of people have become trapped in the mud and, unable to free themselves, drowned when the tide came in. Cook Inlet tides are some of the highest in the world, and water moves in and out very quickly. Do not walk on the tide flats!
(Oh by the way, this is NOT a pic of me above!)
I remember the first time they took me fishing with them, we went to Jewel Lake, a true gem offering grand views of the Chugach Mountains and many public amenities including a playground, beach area and picnic facilities; contains stocked coho (silver salmon and rainbow trout. George got his truck stuck in the mud, and we had to get out and help push it out.
Duck hunting was another fun thing I used to do with them too. George would come over to our house and pick me up, and I would spend a night at their house. In the morning we’d either go duck hunting or hunt for dear. Sometimes they would take my sister or other kids, but mostly me–I guess they knew that I did not have a life. They treated me like I was their own child, and would take me everywhere with them–out to breakfast, lunch, or dinner. At the time I was only twelve or thirteen years old.
Maybe because they did not have children of their own, they just spoiled me to death. Or perhaps because they knew that I was being treated like an outcast by almost everyone especially by own family. I guess we kind of adopted each other.
They needed a child, and I needed a family. Literally my own family did not want anything to do with me. So it worked out perfectly for both sides!
One weekend I was over their house, George brought up how my parents weren’t being very fair to me. He told me not mention this conversation to anyone. He did not think it was right the way they treated me at my house. George felt that my parents were playing favorites toward my other siblings.
“I think they is jealous of you or something,” Ethel said. “Maybe your sister harbors animosity against you, because she has a weight issue, and you are so slim.” she continued trying still to console me. So that is why I never said anything to my family–I knew they resented me for some strange reason–I just could never figure that out.
When George, and Ethel, asked my mom–and dad–if I could go hunting with them, I didn’t think they would say yes. They did agree to let me go, as I was so excited to go camping, hunting, and fishing, for the very first time.
I couldn’t believe someone wanted to spend time with me. I thought wow!
Although they took me to do all these things for the first time, dear hunting was their favorite thing to do. We even went duck hunting a few times. Oh, and because they were truck drivers, George–and Ethel–knew all the best places to eat at.