Glenn or the "White Shadow”

It’s been raining since we arrived in Seldovia. Every. Day. And not just a shower and then it’s over. It’s been that gray-sky, heavy moisture, all day damp, cold, drizzle kind of rain. I have to admit that this type of weather was partly what drove me from sticking it out in Alaska indefinitely. The long winters, the dark days and then on top of it to sometimes face a summer more like a winter… it’s tough to handle full time. It’s like our little conversation with Zip this morning when I tried to convince her to walk over the rocky beach instead of insisting on being carried. “Zippy, aren’t you tough?” Once of the kids asked. “I don’t want to…” she moaned in her little voice. Yes, Zippy, sometimes I don’t want to either. I missed warm weather and swimming holes a lot of days. And my family of course. 6000 miles away is no joke, as you all just learned.

We have been enjoying ourselves for the most part but I have to say it really is because of the people. We got settled our first night onto Glenn’s second lot across the street from his house. He had spent a lot of time the last few years clearing and putting in a lawn, getting it ready for a building one day. We get to enjoy it as our camping spot for out stay.

He’s even putting in at outhouse for us - something the ever thoughtful Glenn had thought of just for us. It may not sound like the kind of gift anyone would really want, but since there’s no place to dump our camper on this side, there is no way we would make it through the week. “I figured you’ve probably been hemorrhaging since you left,” he observed on our first night at his place as we sat in his warm little cabin by the fire, eating his delicious popcorn and brewer’s yeast - just like we had hundreds of times before. And we have been. So Glenn’s generosity in saving us the cost of camping in the RV park over here has been glorious. And I'm really thankful for this outhouse.

We also have access to his shower and laundry which is another blessing. You don’t want to see the prices of showers and laundry in town. It’s cheaper to haul it to Homer and do it there. But we don’t have a boat. And as hard as I try to keep everyone in the same clothes multiple days at a time (“That’s not very dirty, wear it again. That’s fine, put it back on. Don’t bother changing, we’ll be in the mud again in a minute…”) we still create a lot of laundry. And nothing.ever.dries.out. I don’t even think the dryers can fight adequately against the dampness that we have right now. I swear everything still comes out damp and musty. That chilling, cold, clammy dampness that seeps into your very bones. I haven’t been warm since Canada somewhere. I’ve been drinking tea like there’s no tomorrow.

But back to Glenn. Glenn grew up in MA, the youngest of 9. He is a storyteller by nature. And will talk for hours about anything, but mostly about all of his life experiences. Growing up in a big family on a farm, his pet raccoon as a kid… when he was 19 he followed his brother up to Alaska for an adventure and he never left. I can’t remember a lot of the details now, but he has so many stories about being right here in Seldovia for a long, long time. The native people here used to call him “White Shadow”. He knows everyone. He married a girl from back in MA and he goes back each winter. But his free spirit keeps him coming back every summer to his cabin up here. He works as a builder and he has customers on both sides of the country. I love Glenn and his gentle ways. He’s not your typical rough and tough independent kind of hermit you might think of when you think of a man living out here all alone (his wife stays back in MA to work when he’s here). But he’s soft spoken and kind. He does beautiful, sturdy work and is meticulous in everything he does. He also is an amazing gardener. I’ve always been incredulous of his black dirt and the glorious vegetables he gets out of his garden. He takes his blueberries very seriously and hot wires his patches so the bears don’t get them - because they definitely will - and puts up gallons and gallons of them each fall. He leads the worship here at the island, and back home in MA is his quiet, traditional style that maybe the younger crowd doesn’t appreciate so much anymore but it feels like home to me. He’s like a father figure to a lot of the wayward young folk that make their way up here to “find themselves” or just to have an adventure. Always speaking truth and wisdom that he’s gathered over his own adventures and his years of loving the Lord and His word. Seldovia wouldn’t be the same without him. I remember really struggling every time he left for the winter back to MA. His presence in our lives all summer was deeply missed through the long winter months.

That was another bitter struggle. The coming and going. There were so many people that came into our lives all summer long. The Daigle’s and their families were on this side and all the Homer Island Church people, and several others who had cabins in town that were here to liven things up. We had Bible studies with the women and went on hikes and had meals together. And then September came and everyone left. In the winter months for many years Pat and Ann came over to hold church for our little family and one other teacher, Ruth (who was like a sister to us). I can safely say that I was the only Christian mama in the small circle of women and children that I spent any time with here in Seldovia all winter. It was a lonely time.

I have so many memories of little Abbey and Hannah, Micah and Malachi eating his popcorn, playing is this same living room, with the same toys. The good old fashioned metal trucks and tractors and plastic farm animals. It's such a strange feeling of stepping back in time with 4 little kids still playing on this rug 10 years later, Glenn still making his popcorn, listening to his stories. His bear and goat hides slung over his chairs to warm up the space and add to his tales of hunting in the wilderness.

So we’re set up on his extra lot across the street from his little cabin, garden, and shop. We pop over for bathroom, showers, and laundry and soon he and Tim will have the outhouse finished up.

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