Chicken, Alaska
In the summer of 1992, I went to work in Beautiful Downtown Chicken Alaska. Chicken was my crucible. It burned me to my essential components so I could see what I was made of. These stories are either directly or indirectly related to my time there.
I wrote the first three of these for a narrative non-fiction writing course that I took during my time at the University of Alaska Fairbanks. It is only fitting that the first writing that I wrote about Chicken would be my first one listed here.
I wrote the first three of these for a narrative non-fiction writing course that I took during my time at the University of Alaska Fairbanks. It is only fitting that the first writing that I wrote about Chicken would be my first one listed here.
| Pointing Towards Chicken |
I always hesitate letting people read the next one as I'm afraid that it might show a little bit more about myself than most people are comfortable knowing, but it was the second one I wrote, so it's the second one here.
| Peeing in the Woods |
This is the third, and the last, of the essays that I wrote for my narrative non-fiction class. Were I to organize these writings into a book, I would probably put it later in the chronology.
| Risking It All |
The following essays were primarily written during Lent of 2010. I had made it a goal to write for at least five minutes for each day of that Church season. I then posted them on LiveJournal with a link on my FaceBook page. Some of these have been edited since then.
My time in Chicken was almost cut terribly short. Only a lucky break allowed me to stay there for the summer.
My time in Chicken was almost cut terribly short. Only a lucky break allowed me to stay there for the summer.
| Lucky Break |
This next piece tells why I went to Chicken in the first place--Alaska, too, for that matter. It does not show me in the best light.
| Running Away |
Everyone should have a bear story; this is mine.
| The Bear |
The following holds the answer to one of the common questions asked in Chicken when I was there. If you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry at its ending, you are not alone.
| No chicken in Chicken |
The following story is another one that does not show me in the best possible light.
| A Fraud |
While the following two articles aren't directly tied to Chicken, they are still connected in that they talk about my relationship with my wife and my children, the first of whom was developing during my summer there. The first is about how I met my wife (I had to resist titling it "How I Met Your Mother."
| Meeting My Wife |
The second has a brief connection to Chicken in that the frame story is set during my brief trip to Fairbanks that summer, but it mostly is about my other great loves of my life: my children.
| Love at First Sight |
I plan on writing more as time goes on and the spirit fills me. I am already afraid that many good, if not great, stories have been lost as my memory has been farther removed from the experience. This was a focal point of my life; it defines much of who I am today and so I hope to do the memories justice if for no other reason than to give my children the opportunity to know me better.
