Alaska’s First Free Mail Delivery Service
■
The following story is being reprinted with
the express permission of the author’s son. The
story, “Alaska’s First Free Mail Delivery In 1900”
was written by the late Fred Lockley of Portland,
Oregon.
Mr. Lockley passed away on Oct. 15, 1958, at
the age of 87. He had been a columnist and
editorial writer for the Portland Journal of Com
merce since 1911. He was probably best knov^n
for his column “The Journal Man,” which was
also headed “Fred Lockley’s Impressions.”
By FRED LOCKLEY
There may be more “wanderlust” in my blood
than is good for me. Possibly the blood of some
remote ancestor, some hardy Norseman or adven
turous Viking, is cropping out. Certain it is, how
ever, that travel and adventure have a fascination
for me. “Nome,” there was magic in that name.
It was a word to conjure with. What dreams of
treasure and adventure it called forth.
A telegraphic request to the Postmaster Gen
eral secured for myself and a brother letter carrier
a ninety days’ leave of absence from our duties
as letter carriers at Salem, Oregon, which was
later renewed for an additional ninety days.
A score or more residents of Salem, formed a
society which we called the Salem-Nome Society.
The object of this Society was to help each other
if need arose, and need did arise on various
occasions.
On the 26th of May, 1900, our vessel the Nome
City, cast loose from the wharf at Portland,
steamed down the picturesque Columbia, and next
morning, crossing the bar at Astoria, we headed
northward for Cape Nome on the shore of Bering
Sea.
During our trip to the Far North, our vessel
was caught in the ice and we spent day after day
trying to find leads that would guide us to open
water. We saw numerous walrus and seal; also a
polar bear with its cub on the ice. On our way
north, we rescued the crews of vessels—the Hunter
and the Eclipse, one of them having been wrecked
on Cape Romanoff. Finally, we made our way to
where the Roanoke, “The Treasure Ship,” was
trapped in the ice. As it was a larger vessel than
the Nome City, it broke its way through the float
ing ice and we followed in its wake.
Twenty-three days after leaving Portland, we
were eagerly scanning what looked like heavy
blocks of ice on the shore. In a few hours we
were so near that with the naked eye we could
distinguish an unbroken line of white upon the
beach near the water’s edge. Speculation was rife.
Some thought it surf; others were quite positive
it was ice piled up along the shore. An examina
tion with glasses disclosed the fact that it was
nothing more or less than a line of tents, several
deep, extending up and down the beach for many
miles. Toward the center of the camp some frame
buildings were to be seen, but in all other direc
tions it was a city of tents. There were thousands
of them, and they made a scene not often wit
nessed, and never to be forgotten. A flurry of snow
brought to us the realization that this was the
land of “cold” as well as the land of “gold.”
We cast anchor about a mile off shore in the
midst of a large fleet. Vessels of every description
were here, from the humble schooner to the huge
eighteen-knot steamer. Next day lighters put out
to the ship and most of the passengers were taken
ashore. Our vessel, soon after its arrival, became
very shorthanded, most of the crew quitting work
to try their fortunes on the beach. In consequence,
our baggage and freight was much delayed in
getting ashore. Men, whose tents and other camp
equipage was in the hold, had to sleep on the
damp sand of the beach, in many cases for a week
or ten days before their freight was landed, which
resulted in their contracting severe colds.
To one who has never witnessed a mining stam
pede it is hard to convey a correct impression of
the conditions. We stepped from the row-boat to
the lighter, from which a plank led to the shore.
Along the water front for a mile the freight was
piled from ten to twenty feet high, the pile com
mencing within twenty feet of the water’s edge
and extending 40 or 50 yards back towards the
tundra. It reminded one of some gigantic anthill,
and how the human ants swarmed over the pile.
Lighters were being unloaded by long lines of men
wearing rubber hip boots, who waded out to the
loaded barges, staggering back with heavy loads.
Others were sorting over the vast accumulation of
freight of every description in search of their own
belongings. The narrow strip of sand between the
sea and the freight was thronged with men with
stretchers or packstraps, carrying freight and bag
gage. Dog teams, consisting of eight or ten husky
. or malemute dogs hitched tandem, were straining
at their collors to drag their carts through the
soft and yielding sand. Men with push carts were
good naturedly contending for the right of way;
and here and there a team of horses and wagons
were coining money for the owner by carrying
trunks at $2 each, or hauling freight at $10 an
hour. Added to the confusion were the hoarse
commands of the Tighter bosses to their men, and
the “Gangway there,” or “Mush on” of the drivers
of dog teams.
Going from the turmoil of the beach up one
block to Nome’s principal street you found you had
gotten into confusion worse confounded—a narrow
street, ten or twelve paces from store front to
store front, so crowded with humanity that one
could make his way along with considerable diffi
culty. It was worth a long journey to see the
eager thousands who are feverishly hurrying by.
Here a French count, Count Jacques des Garrets,
looking as though he had just stepped out of a
fashion plate, is elbowing his way past a couple
of Eskimos clad in reindeer parkees and sealskin
mukluks; here an old salt with his rolling gait,
there a “Sourdough” just in from the hills. Miners
from all over the world are here. Two dark-eyed,
swarthy - visaged Greeks pass, talking in their
native tongue. The delightful brogue of the “Em
erald Isle” mingles with the guttural German.
Verily, it is a Tower of Babel. But Greek or
Irish, “Cheechaker” or “Sourdough,” breadcloth
or buckskin, all are crowding through the swing
ing doors of the innumerable saloons. The quality
of much of the Nome liquor was enough to make
an ardent prohibitionist of a confirmed drunkard.
We crossed Snake River, spread our blankets
on the sand in the lee of the wreck of the Joe
Mathews, and got a few hours’ sleep. The next
day we went down the beach a few miles. We
met some fellow-townsmen who told us they were
only making from two dollars to three and a half
to the man a day. This discouraging report was
confirmed by dozens of others. “This beach is a
‘has-been’,” said one, “undoubtedly it was rich at
first, but it has been worked and reworked several
times since then, and now we are only rocking the
tailings.” Within three days we discovered that we
• would not be able to make wages on the beach. A
great many others had discovered the same fact,
and were applying for work unloading the lighters
at a dollar an hour. Men were being refused for
longshore work by the hundred, so we concluded
our show there was rather slim.
We went up to the postoffice to get our mail.
We took our place at the foot of a double line
more than a block long, and during two hours we
stood in line, I learned that businessmen, not
being able to spare two hours to obtain their mail,
would pay someone to stand in line for them, or
do without until they could spare the time. A
sudden inspiration came to me. How it would
shorten that long line, and how greatly it would
lessen the congestion of the mail if a business
delivery of mail were established. I suggested it
to my partner, but he told me it could not be
done, as Nome was only a fourth-class postoffice.
However, 1 thought it worth trying, so we walked
around to the back door of a little shanty that
was doing duty as a postoffice, and knocked.
Our knock was answered by a kindly-eyed, gray
haired gentleman, who, in response to my inquiry,
told me the postmaster was in the States, but
that he was in charge of the office. To him I stated
my suggestion, namely, the establishment of a free
delivery service. He invited us in, asked us a few
searching questions relative to postal work, as
certained we were letter carriers on leave of ab
sence, and told us to report for duty as soon as
we had eaten dinner.
On our way to our camp we had to pass sev
eral alluring signs which dwelt on the merits of
the dinner served within at prices ranging from
two dollars and a half to five dollars. I remember
one which quoted T-bone steak at three dollars
and a naif; another, spring chicken at five dollars.
We resisted their blandishments, and ate pork,
beans and coffee at our own camp. We had each
brought an old uniform, thinking it would do to
mine in, so, putting on our old gray suits, we went
back to the office.
Mr. Clum, during our absence, had prepared
for each of us a typewritten letter as follows:
POSTOFFICE DEPARTMENT
Office of Postoffice Inspector,
J'ohn P. Clum, Inspector.
A system of free delivery has been established
in conection with the Nome postoffice, which will
be inaugurated on a portion of Front Street and
extended as conditions will permit.
The bearer (Mr. Fred Lockley, Jr.) has been
appointed a clerk in the Nome postoffice, and is
authorized to take the names and addresses of
persons who may be entitled to service within
the prescribed district.
Only those who are unable to obtain boxes in
the postoffice will be served by the carriers.
JOHN P. CLUM,
Postoffice Inspector.
Nome, Alaska, June 21, 1900.
(To Be Continued)
Retail Merchants Will be
Permitted to Act as Local
State Welfare Agents
JUNEAU, UP) — The Senate has
changed its mind and decided that
qualified retail merchants should
be permitted to act as local wel
fare agents for the new state.
An amendment that would have
permitted the Department of Wel
fare to use retail vendors as agents,
if no other qualified persons are
available in a community, was
rejected Monday by an 11-9 vote.
The bill, previously passed by the
House, was then passed by the
upper branch.
Tuesday, hc^ever, the Senate
reversed itself on the retail ven
dors’ amendment. Supporters
urged that without it a large num
ber of experienced welfare agents
would be automatically dropped
from their jobs.
On another measure, the six
members of a joint conference
committee to work out differences
between the two branches on a
bill to change Alaska’s local sales
tax law were named.
The Senate made two major
changes in the House bill and the
House refused to accept them. One
would exclude residential rents
from the measure’s provisions,
and the other would exempt from
local sales taxes a number of
services, including medical and
attorney’s fees.
—
FIRE WHISTLE SIGNALS
HAVE BEEN CHANGED
We are advised that at a re
cent meeting of the City Firemen,
the fire whistle signals were
changed.
Henceforth:
1 Whistle — East of Division
Street.
2 Whistles — West of Division
Street.
(Division Street runs between
Morgan’s and Wien Airlines.)
PARIS OFFICIALS PREDICT
GENEVA MINISTERS MEETING
PARIS, iff) — Informed sources
said yesterday the Western pow
ers probably will propose to Rus
sia soon a Geneva meeting of for
eign ministers in May.
NOME SANITARY
SERVICE
Phone Main 1
P. O. Box 558
WIEN AIRLINES PASSENGERS
From Fairbanks — Clement and
Nancy Lean, James Whittaker,
Helen Senungetuk, Edgar Kell,
Hubert Martin, E. L. Williams, A1
Haferbecker, Wilbur Karmun.
To Fairbanks — Frank Austin,
Gerald Waugh, Donald Hilton,
Russell Wood, Morris Archam
beault. J. D. Sommers, John
Friske.
To Kotzebue — Larry Fagan,
Daniel Amarok, Claude Smith,
Rudolph Henning, Herbert Klindt,
James Stockdale, J. D. Gillespie,
Joseph Lawson, David Minard,
Clay Bellisle, Jim Height, Phillip
Coppock, Jessie Merriett, Clar
ence Fuller, Bill Haley.
From Kotzebhe — Lyman
Madde, R. E. Marcinkowski, Jim
Gillis.
"4-on" Duplicate Receipt Book*
available at The Nome Nuggei
Ice Pool Dates
Since 1917, when the Pool
was started, the ice has gone
out at Nenana as follows:
1917— April 30 .11:30 a.m.
1918— May 11. 9:33 a.m.
1919— May 3. 2:33 p.m.
1920— May 11.10:45 a.ra.
1921— May 11. 6:42 a.m.
1922— May 12. 1:20 p.m.
1923— May 9. 2:00 p.m.
1924— May 11. 3:id p.m.
1925— May 7. 6:32 p.m.
i 1926—April 26. 4:03 p.m.
I 1927—May 13. 5:42 a.m.
1928— May 6. 4:25 p.m.
1929— May 5. 3:41 p.m.
1930— May 8. 7:03 p.m.
1931— May 10. 9:23 a.m.
1932— May 1.10:15 a.m.
1933— May 8. 7:30 p.m.
,1934—April 30 . 2:07 p.m.
1935— May 15. 1:32 p.m.
1936— April 30.12:58 p.m.
1937— May 12. 8:04 p.m.
1938— May 6. 8:14 p.m.
1939— April 29. 1:26 p.m.
1940— April 20. 3:27 p.m.
1941— May 3:.. 1:50 a.m
1942— April 30 . 1:28 p.m
1943— April 28 . 7:22 p.m
1944— May 4. 2:08 p.m
1945— May 16. 9:41 a.m.
1946— May 5. 4:40 p.m.
1947— May 3. 5:53 p.m.
1948— May 13......11:13 p.m.
1949— May 14.12:39 p.m.
1950— May 6. 4:14 p.m.
'951—April 30. 5:54 p.m.
1952— May 12. 5:04 p.m.
1953— April 29 . 3:54 p.m.
1954— May 6. 6:01 p.m.
1955— May 9. 2:13 p.m.
1956— May 1.11:24 a.m.
1957— May 5. 9:30 a.m.
1958— April 29 . 2:56 pan.
NOW IS THE TIME
Of The Year To Start Your Collection Of
MINIATURE
IVORY CARVINGS
. . . NOW AVAILABLE . . .
ARCTIC OWL, MURRE, PTARMIGAN SWAN,
AUK, DUCK, GEESE, RAVEN
FOX, SQUIRREL, SEAL, WALRUS,
POLAR BEAR, ARCTIC HARE, DOGS