Katie John's Anchorage visitation: the void, the continuation

Towards the end of the post I put up earlier today, just before I left to drive to town for the Anchorage memorial service for Dr. Katie John,  I wrote something which folks who know me probably found almost impossible to believe:

"It's kind of odd, but right now I don't even feel like taking pictures there. I feel like I just want to go, sit, listen and quietly pay my respect."

I felt heavy inside. For many reasons.

After I arrived, I read these words in the program:

"Our Mother was a deeply traditional woman. The family asks that no photographs be taken of the casket and that people refrain from touching our Mother inside the casket. We apologize if this offends anyone but these are the wishes of our Mother."

I was not offended. I felt relieved.

I took a seat at the back beside my friend fisherman Bob Heinrich of Cordova, President of the Native Village of Eyak, thankful that I did not have to worry about it, that I could just sit, listen, think and feel. Still, I had to get at least one picture to document that on this day in this place, The Anchorage Baptist Temple, Katie John was honored and remembered by family and friends. Without moving from my position beside Bob, I composed the scene so the casket was blocked from view by the head of a woman who sat a row in front of me as Katie's face appeared on the monitor to the upper right and her son, Fred John, who stood at the podium, welcomed all who had come.

 "It's hard to sit up here and talk," Fred stated. "It's pretty heavy on me and my family." What made it bearable, Fred said, was "The outpouring of love from people throughout Alaska and the Lower 48. It's been so awesome and been so overwhelming sometimes we just have sit down and shake our heads. I haven't fully grieved for my Mom yet. Sometimes I want to say it didnt happen. I'm still in denial. There's been so much outpouring of love for my Mom, to my family because of my Mom. I'm glad you're here to say goodbye to my Mom. She'd greet each one of you with a kiss and hug."

After the invocation by Eurare Kawe, Georgianna Lincoln delivered the eulogy, but first spoke of her personal reaction when she saw the headline and photo in the newspaper and read the story telling of Katie John's death. "A flood of emotions passed through me. First and foremost was grief - grief in losing a huge part of our Native family and the enormous void left in our native heritage and culture, for all Alaskans, FOR ALL ALASKANS... Then I smiled, thinking of Katie's huge, mischievous smile."

The officiating pastor was Yvonne Echohawk, one of Katie's adopted daughters. She spoke of her certainty that Katie is doing well on the other side, happy to be with her late husband, Fred John Sr., her mother, father, the siblings and children who preceded her in death and with Jesus.

Matt Hayashi sang a Special Song, I Will Rise. Former Governor Tony Knowles could not attend, but his statement was read. I might quote from it in my upcoming series. Congregational songs included How Great Thou Art and Victory in Jesus. Pastor Echohawk offered the closing prayer.

The casket was kept closed until after the service, then it was opened so all could pass by for the visitation. Katie was 97 years old, yet, when I stopped briefly, looked in, saw her face, the beauty and strength still manifest within, and thought of all the history and life she had lived through and witnessed after being born into a tiny community in the wilderness where few non-Native people had ever tread and English was a foreign language, how she raised her family totally on the food of the land and how ultimately, at an age when most people are content to be retired, took on the State of Alaska, demanded that the US government honor its obligation to protect her family and peoples' right to subsistence fish and hunt and how she now lay so still, I was overwhelmed by a level of emotion that surprised me.

I deeply felt the void Georgianna spoke of, yet recognized that in her over 250 descendants, spanning four generations, and in her legacy, Dr. Katie John will indeed live on, right here on earth. Her influence for good will be felt every day all across this state, Alaska.

Tomorrow, I will begin my little series recalling the events that led to her second victory. Then I will drive to Mentasta for her funeral.

Index to full series. * Designates the main, story-telling, posts:

Dr. Katie John, Ahtna Athabascan champion of Native rights before the Supreme Court of the United States: October 15, 1915 - May 31, 2013

July, 2001: Enroute to Batzulnetas to cover historic meeting between Katie John and Governor Tony Knowles; In a couple of hours I will go to Katie John's Anchorage memorial

*Katie John's Anchorage visitation: the void, the continuation 

*In 1999, Katie John gathered a host of young people together, most of them descendants, and took them camping at Batzulnetas

I pause this series until after the funeral, but here is Katie John with Governor Tony Knowles and the fish that made the difference

This morning at 4:00 AM - leaving Mentasta after Katie John's funeral and potlatch

*Katie John's funeral and potlatch: on the night before burial, dance wiped away the tears

*Katie John finished well - her descendants mourn, celebrate her life, bury her, eat, dance give gifts and prepare to carry on

One image from Katie John's victory celebration - the story of how she won her victory will soon follow

*Katie John and Tony Knowles at Batzulnetas: a fish escaped, the ice cream was hard and a Governor listened

*When Katie John became Dr. Katie John - closing post