Originally published in The Nome Nugget, Summer 1995
You take a lot of things for granted in this life and I found out recently that Nome was one of them. When I first read about those annual “Nome Picnics” down south and how people in the Lower 48 subscribed to this little rag of a newspaper from way up here on the Seward Peninsula, I remember thinking, “My God, people, get a life!” I mean, how could folks who’d moved away from Nome be that interested in what was going on up here? Then I moved away from Nome.
I couldn’t get to The Nome Nugget fast enough when it came to my Pittsburgh apartment. Picture me sitting at my ninth floor kitchen table gobbling up every article, every photograph, every obituary, every ad for Fat Freddie’s restaurant! All the while slurping coffee from my shiny black Nome Nugget mug. I mean, talk about getting a life!
It’s a little hard to explain the fever that came over me when I left Nome. I was telling people, “Yeah, I’m from Nome, Alaska,” even though I’d only spent 6 months there. Oh, sure, I was intending to go back but, considering I’ve spent a whole bunch of years somewhere else, saying I was “from Nome, Alaska,” was kind of stretching things. Maybe it had something to do with being involved in such a small, isolated community and feeling so welcomed that made me say that. Maybe it was the ache in my heart from leaving the best little library, those exhilarating tundra day trips, and the Mongolian beef at the Twin Dragon that made me check the Alaskan weather numbers every single day. Maybe it was the friendly people in the stores, the willingness to talk, the acceptance of outsiders that made me devour every issue of The Nome Nugget so thoroughly. Or maybe it was all the attention I was getting.
I loved getting all the questions about Nome and Alaska. And, even though most Outsiders get all mixed up between what’s in Anchorage, Sitka, Kodiak Island, and Northwest Alaska, (and if I hear one more story about going up the Inland Passage, I’m going to scream), I forgave them. I can afford to be magnanimous. I’m from Nome, Alaska.
I understand better now why people who don’t live here anymore read The Nome Nugget and get together to share their experiences. And perhaps it will be me one day carrying my covered dish of moose sausage and wild onions to a Nome picnic in Seattle. And just maybe that’s part of what getting a life is all about.
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