When only the Creator owned this land

A long time ago, my Ahtna ancestors lived on this land. They didn’t measure time in years, but it was so long ago that the animals and humans could communicate with each other. They spoke the same language. Our ancient legends, called Yanida’a, that have been passed down since the beginning of our time include animals that are related to humans. Those times must have been magical.

They also had strong beliefs in reincarnation, and when a baby was born, it was welcomed into this world and the people usually knew which departed relative was coming back for another round.

Sometimes when I talk with elementary students I ask them to imagine what life would have been like for my ancestors. We look around the classroom and there are things on every wall. I get them to think how it would be out in the woods with no distractions, not even a road nearby or telephone wires or airplanes flying overhead — just the natural world. It’s my guess that awareness of surroundings would be heightened and every little creature would be noticed.

My great-grandparents grew up in that world. I’ll call my great-grandfather Frank, a name given to him by the newcomers who couldn’t pronounce his Ahtna name. (I wish to this day I knew what his real name was.) Children were shown how to do things and our Yanida’a stories taught them how to behave and gave lessons with morals. They believed that no one could “own” the land, only the Creator. Humans were put on this earth to take care of it, and if they did a good job they would be provided with everything they needed.

My great-aunt Mary Shaginoff told us a story about when she was a young girl.

The family was camped by a stream and Frank was giving his three daughters a lecture because they were being lazy. He said, “You wouldn’t be able to survive if it wasn’t for us taking care of you!”

Aunt Mary and her sister Annie talked it over and determined they would be able to live on their own and to prove it they took off down the trail without even saying they were leaving. They walked quite a ways and stopped at a lake where they caught some fish. They cleaned the fish and hung them to dry, proving to themselves they could indeed survive on their own. So they headed back down the trail to meet up with their parents.

Along the way they spotted an old cache that had rotted and fallen to the ground. Upon further investigation they discovered some Russian trading beads. They gathered them up and put them in their bag along with the fish.

When they made it back to their parents’ camp, there was a whirlwind of emotions, as one might expect. So the daughters pulled the fish out of the bag to show how well they fared, and then they brought out the beads.

Frank looked at the beads and asked, “Did someone give those to you?”

Aunt Mary told him they had found them in an old rotten cache.

Frank said, “Unless someone gave those to you, they don’t belong to you. You take those back and put them where you found them.”

These were some of the values of my Ancestors.

In 1914, Frank helped build Boulder Cabin up by Anthracite Ridge, one of our beautiful hunting areas. I had heard about Boulder Cabin from the time I was very young. People would stop by our house after hunting and spoke so highly of it, in my mind I thought it must be like a mansion — until I saw a photograph as a grown up.

But to our People, it probably was like a mansion. It had a little stove so they could get warm and cook food. Mom said they would bring in fresh spruce boughs and use them like mattresses. There was always a supply of wood because before visitors left, they would replenish the wood.

When the newcomers arrived and saw this beautiful land with gorgeous views, they asked if they could build a cabin. Frank didn’t see any problem with that, believing that no one could “own” the land. Maybe he thought it would be like Boulder Cabin and people could share it.

But as we know, the federal government started laying claim to everything and creating things like the Homesteader Act, where newcomers gobbled up large pieces of land to claim as their own, placing “No Trespassing” signs on trails my Ancestors had traveled on since time immemorial.

Frank didn’t trust the newcomers. He was very skeptical of them. But one man finally won his confidence. He told Frank he would have to really watch out for his three daughters because there were lots of bad men venturing north. He taught Frank the ABCs and patriotic songs.

And then the real reason came about when he asked Frank if he knew where there was any gold. Frank said he knew where there was lots of gold. That guy finally convinced Frank to show him where it was. That crook’s eyes bugged out. He told Frank they would be partners and become rich. He told Frank to wait by the gold and he would go to Valdez to file the claim.

It wasn’t much longer before miners with picks and shovels began to arrive, telling Frank to get out of the way, that his “partner” had sold the claim. Frank was very angry and wanted retribution, but his family talked him out of it, said it wasn’t worth it.

When the newcomers started to arrive. Frank couldn’t believe that they didn’t even have proper shoes or clothing to keep warm and they didn’t know how to feed themselves in the harsh climate. It was through Frank’s generosity many times that the newcomers survived.

Patricia Wade is an Ahtna Athabascan and a member of the Chickaloon Tribe who lives in Palmer.