Back to Curry.

The kids of Curry played, as all kids do. The girls did their 'thing;' with us guys doing ours, from cowboys and Indians to the John Wayne stuff – add the expected 'my dad can whip your dad…' sociology. No fights ever broke out – maybe a lot of laughter.

Naturally, kids explore. Winter had its cold and snow; summer had its mosquitoes and the threat of black bears. We had a few encounters, with the bear fortunately being on the timid side. One adult by the name of Rudy got clobbered by a bear and ended up in the hospital out of it. He was lucky to live. On another occasion, a bear got into the hotel basement and trashed a bathroom, trying to get out. Naturally, the hotel kitchen windows had to be watched. The bear couldn't read the "Stay Out" signs.

I spent a fair amount of time exploring the old steam engine that had been permanently parked at Curry. There was also the old snow-plow car with a huge curved blade in front. I spent more than my share of time, trying to run up the curvature, attempting to grab the top of the blade – forget it!

The hotel used a wooden dump-ramp to employ the Susitna river as the garbage disposal system. The grounds had a long boardwalk, to accommodate the garbage push-cart. Another 'dump' had been cut down to the river for the 'public.' The garbage would be piled as near the river's edge, as possible. Eventually, the river would come up, taking the garbage away.

On especially boring days, I'd walk downstream, trying to stumble upon a treasure that had been washed up on shore. I was no threat to Indiana Jones, I never found more than a few interesting bottles.

Curry delivered its share of children's adventures. One year, it snowed to the extreme that the D-6 was required to clear snow for normal living paths. The snow was plowed up, across the tracks so high, that the kids used the snow-hill for sledding – love the old aluminum 'saucers!'

I don't remember any wind in Curry. That is strange, as Alaskan valleys are usually conduits for wind – sometimes some incredibly intense winds.

I think it was that year also that we 'appropriated' the rope from the "distress signal" flag-pole at the First-Aid cabin and used it to tow a crude deep-bed toboggan up the hill and ride it down at literally breath-taking speed. We literally couldn't breath at its peak speed. Two runs did it; towing that thing up the hill took four of us.

FIRST-AID CABIN

 

My first love was Maryann Rogers. She was a brown-eyed, long-haired beauty who never knew I had a crush on her, before I was old enough to have crushes. She was too old to go to school in Curry, I remember that. Let me tell the world, I'll never forget her. Her brother once pounded me on the arm, where I'd received the BCG injection; I cried in pain (It actually hurt that bad.) Maryann came to my rescue; what a thrill! She never knew! There's no justice.

Mom never had much time for kids. I was her favorite, but that didn't mean that much. I wanted to adopt Carol Yakasoff. Brown eyes and long brown hair – but too old for a crush; and she smoked! She had an instinct for taking care of kids. I remember one winter day, she called a bunch of us kids in from the cold winter play and read us kid stories. That was quite a thrill, at the time. Looking back, I think Carol was a lot younger than I knew.

I can't remember the occasion, but I baby-sat her daughters in a pinch, once. As young as I was, there must have been some desperation in the air. Poor Connie, she ended up with glasses at age three. I later met Connie and Mary, as adults – they couldn't remember Curry, so there was nothing to discuss, they'd heard the stories from their mom.

Kids are loaded with as much curiosity as energy. I spent many an hour exploring the hotel, in particular. I was on par with little Danny, in "The Shining." Yeah, there was even a weird naked lady encounter – amazing what can be vividly remembered. 'Nuff said. Well….maybe more later.

The hotel was almost as empty as "The Shining." No ghosts, that I remember, though – but the mysterious aura of 'days-gone-by' was definitely there; defying rational description. To this day, I get an eerie feeling going through antique shops, seeing the same furniture, juke box, "Victrolas," etc. – more nostalgia, than anything.

My older sister, Karen, wouldn't let me play with her and her girlfriends. The other girls were pretty neat, Laura-Lee Hassle, Nina Wolford, Maryann, Anna Nikolai, Delores Felix. Wow, that was 50 years ago! (And, I'm terrible at remembering names!) BUT – the big swing set on the hotel lawn was common ground. I was just small enough that I couldn't swing as high as "the big kids."

Karen was quite the tom-boy. She once came across a dead Lynx and skinned it with a piece of sharp shale. (Mom wasn't pleased!) Jimmy Felix was one of the oldest kids. He'd occasionally take Karen out hunting Ptarmigan – good eating. Imagine chicken, with a 'wild game' taste. Karen got to be pretty good with adult snow shoes, she was only nine, at the time.

My younger sister, Julie, was the expected tag-along. We didn't play together all that much; I don't recall why. She was always the quiet one. She was only three years old, when we moved to Curry; six when we left.