Young Writers Named In Alaska Day Contest

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Created on Friday, 07 November 2014 10:34

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The Alaska Day Festival Committee and the Write Women of Sitka have announced the winners of the Sixth Annual Alaska Day Prose Writing Contest. Top entries were read during the Oct. 12 Alaska Day Festival event. 

The group received 116 student entries this year.

Winners in the Elementary School category are: first place, Slater Nova Anderson; second place, Silas Rioux; and third place, Rianna N. Bergman.

Middle School winners are: first place, Allison Christner; second place. Elsie Yocum; and third place, Kathleen “Katie” Sweeney.

Essay winners in the High School contest are: first place, Zofia Danielson; second place, Ashlyn Nutting; and third place, Laura Everson.

Essays awarded first-, second- and third-place honors  can be found on the Sentinel website at www.sitkasentinel.com.

Winning essays in each of the three age divisions follow.

 

 ‘‘Floats and Feathers’’

By Slater Nova Anderson

Fourth Grade

Elementary School – First Place

It was Alaska Day in the awesome town of Sitka. The beginning and end of the celebrations were really fun. I had two full bags of candy that the parade people threw to the crowd. The middle however wasn’t as good when everything suddenly changed.

The parade was going well when suddenly a car towing Ben’s Brew Root Beer float broke down and the whole line stopped. Suddenly, bright white figures came up from the ground; they were a fleet of ghosts. The ghosts were freezing people in time, right where they were standing. I ran for my life. While all this was happening, the parade people were still trying to fix the broken down car. I called the army for a flamethrower, while still running for my life. A few minutes later, the military arrived with flamethrowers. I used the flamethrower to flame the ghosts, and they exploded into millions of feathers. It was like it was raining feathers. Eventually only one ghost remained. The one that was not dead was the commander. I flamed the commander with all the juice that was left in the flamethrower, and the commander finally died. The Sitka citizens, who were frozen instantly, became unfrozen. I said, “Thank you for the flamethrower,” to the military, The mechanic crew finally fixed the broken down car, and the parade went on.

 

‘‘Time To Celebrate’’

By Silas Rioux

Elementary School – Second Place

Let’s go on an exciting adventure to the Alaska Day parade! 

When you get there you’ll see the Sitka Sound Slayers zooming down the road! They’re so fast they’ll make your cheeks extremely red, and you’ll scream out, “Happy Alaska Day!!” 

Next you’ll see the Keystone Cops chasing after you so they can kiss your cheek! You can see their crazy clothes and fancy hats. 

Look! Here comes the loud fire trucks, listen to their sirens! 

Who’s up next? It’s Captain Sea Mart! He’s ready to serve his people. 

Next come the exciting Tlingit dancers and drummers. I bet they’re happy to show their neat culture. 

Watch out! Here come the soldiers with their massive guns! Listen to them shoot! Boom! Boom! Boom! 

Next are the athletic swimmers! I bet they’re terrific! 

Here come the girl scouts with their delicious cookies. I think they are so good. 

Is that the end? I guess it is. Well, see you next year!

 

‘‘Alaska Day Boy Scouts’’

By Rianna N. Bergman

Elementary School – Third Place

My funny experience on Alaska Day is about my brother and his Boy Scout troop. Right before the parade, my brother and his troop were waiting for the rest of the troop to get there, and a Keystone Cop came over and tried to give them one of those kisses, and they ran wild! It was so funny to see them running around like a pack of wild animals. I started to chase them too. Every few minutes they would run into each other. Then they would start running when the Keystone Cop came over there. Then the Keystone Cop went somewhere else, and the Boy Scouts started marching in the parade. That was the best Alaska Day ever.

 

 

‘‘Robert’s Alaska Day’’

By Allison Christner

Sixth Grade

Middle School – First Place

Today was just a normal Alaska Day, the shouts and screams woke me up as did the strange smells. I popped up out of my burrow for a better look. Oh, I forgot to mention my name is Robert, Robert the mouse. Well, I looked up to see the sun was high, and the sky was a beautiful baby blue. A man was enjoying the parade when a man with a burger arrived.

“Hey Bob, where did you get that burger?” asked the man.

“Over at the booth Larry,” replied Bob.

“Could you get me one?” begged Larry, looking hungrily at the burger. 

“Sure!” exclaimed Bob. Bob seemed enthusiastic to go get another burger for Larry. Running as fast as he could, Bob went to get the burger.

“Hmmm,” I thought to myself. “I want a burger.” I then picked myself up, and out of my burrow and chased after Bob. Following Bob was treacherous; dodging feet and dogs was beyond my ability. I stopped to catch my breath just as a gun shot went off.

“Ahhhhhh!” I screamed. “They’re shooting at me!” Franticly, I ran into the road where a fire truck was driving by. The sirens rang in my ears, running over to the sidewalk something hit me on the head. I woke up later on the ground with people and floats still going by, a watermelon Jolly Rancher lay next to me. Apparently the Jolly Rancher hit me on the head knocking me out for a few minutes. I took the Jolly Rancher and made a break for the sidewalk.

Just before I made it to the sidewalk, three scary looking ladies came along. One had pink hair, and another had striped legs. The last one had a lovely blue feather boa, and when she trotted off one of the feathers fell and landed gently on the ground. I dropped my Jolly Rancher, and picked up the feather. I wrapped it around my neck as if it was my own boa. I felt very fancy, like a movie star. I was walking over to my Jolly Rancher when a strong wind blew my feather off. I was very disappointed I lost my boa, but I still had my Jolly Rancher.

I was about to get to my burrow when a delicious smell caught my attention. I left my Jolly Rancher, and let my nose take over. Weaving through the crowd the smell grew stronger and stronger. Finally a Reindeer Redhots hotdog cart was in my sights. I shimmied up the cart and was about to get my hands on a steaming hotdog, when a woman screamed.

“Ewe!” she exclaimed with a horrid look on her face, “a rat.”

 Insulted by the comment I whipped my head around and glared at the lady, turning back around to get my hotdog when the hotdog vendor hit me with the spatula. I fell backwards and pretended to be dead.

“Is it dead? “The lady whispered. 

Then the vendor spoke, “Come on; let’s dispose of this little creature.”

 I leaped up, grabbed the hotdog and jumped off the cart. I started running looking back, at the angry vendor and the nearly fainted lady. It was hilarious.

I was close to my burrow but the smell of my hotdog caught some unwanted attention; three snarling dogs came chasing after me. Running with a hotdog really slowed me down, I tried to pick up my speed but the dogs were gaining. I grabbed a skateboard from some kid watching the parade.

“Hey!” The kid yelled. “That’s mine!”

“Sorry.” I squeaked back, I was so close to my burrow. I grabbed my Jolly Rancher from where I left it, and headed full force towards my burrow. When I was just a mouse length away, the skateboard hit a rock and the hotdog, jolly rancher and myself went flying in the air. In the air I grabbed the jolly rancher and the hotdog and I plunged us into my burrow. We landed successfully gently on my nice squishy bed. I was happy and I was done with adventure for a while. I yawned and laid down for a nice, quiet sleep. 

 ‘‘The Two Dogs Alaska Day Parade’’

By Elsie Yocum

Middle School – Second Place

Bruno and Tillie are two dogs that belong to Jane Freeman. Bruno is a German shepherd and Tillie is a golden retriever. Today is October 18, Alaska Day. All of them are headed to the annual Alaska Day parade.

“Bruno! Tillie! Come on it’s almost time for the parade!” Jane called. Bruno and Tillie came running to the sound of their owner’s voice. Jane greeted them with some head pats and their leashes. Once their leashes were hooked on to their collars, they were ready to go. As soon as Jane opened the apartment door, they tried to bolt outside, but, sadly, their leashes held them back. 

“Hold on, you two,” Jane scolded, they slowed down due to their owner’s command. Bruno and Tillie were very loyal to Jane; they would never disobey her. As Jane opened the back car door, the dogs got excited. They knew what that meant: a car ride. Jane unhooked their leashes and let them jump in. On the car ride over, they saw the line of floats waiting for the parade to start. They barked at other dogs (like all dogs do), and they barked at the various birds. Jane took a parking place by the harbor, and then they walked across the street and stood waiting for the oncoming parade.

Soon they were greeted with the faint sound of drums and guns. The parade!

“I can’t wait Bruno!” Tillie said, ecstatic.

“I can’t either Tillie.” Bruno agreed.

The fire trucks went by, horns honking, then came the men with guns.

“This is fun, isn’t it, Tillie?” Bruno asked Tillie as they were sitting on the sidewalk.

“Yes, it is,” answered Tillie, happily watching the parade, with the cars going by. For a while Tillie and Bruno silently watched the Alaska Day parade, enjoying every last bit of it. Suddenly, Bruno and Tillie got the sensation that something was not quite right. They heard the faint breaking of glass.

“Something’s not right,” stated Bruno.

“Yeah,” Tillie agreed. 

“Let’s go find it,” Bruno ordered.

“Okay,” Tillie relented, and then they ran, running through the everlasting crowds.

“Bruno! Tillie!” Jane called frantically after them.

They ran until they reached an empty store with the windows broken where they found a robber inside stealing the store’s merchandise!

“There’s a robber!” Bruno gasped.

“Let’s get him,” Tillie exclaimed.

They jumped inside the broken window, surprising the sneaky robber. They growled a deep, rumbling growl. The robber got a horrified look on his face, backing up quickly.

“Stay back, dogs,” he said, his voice wavering. Bruno and Tillie barked menacingly in reply. They heard footsteps clomping outside on the sidewalk.

“Bruno! Tillie! Where are you?” Jane’s voice cried. Bruno and Tillie barked and barked trying to get her attention. The message got through, luckily.

“Bruno? Tillie?” Jane called, “Are you there?” As soon as she said that she walked around the corner and saw the predicament her dogs were in.

“Oh no!” she gasped, she pulled out her phone and called 911. “911? Hello? This is Jane Freeman calling for a robbery at the Goldsmith Gallery.” There’s silence indicating the police are replying to her. “Yes, okay,” she says, she walked to Bruno and Tillie, “Good dogs,” she praised while the robber was still shaking out of fear; soon they heard the oncoming sirens of the police cars. The police cars pulled up 30 seconds later.

“Put your hands up!” they screamed, the robber put his hands up dropping his bag of merchandise, the policemen walked up to him and put him in handcuffs. They put him in the backseat of the police car, and then turned to Jane.

“We’re going to have to have you follow us to the police station as a witness,” they commanded, so Jane left Bruno and Tillie in the back of the truck to answer their questions. Jane came back a while later with a joyful look on her face.

“Good job you two,” she praised, patting them on the head, “Let’s go home,”

     

‘‘Life as a Piece of Candy’’

By Kathleen ‘‘Katie’’ Sweeney

Third Place – Middle School

I was just sitting there with my neighbors on the shelf, when all of a sudden this nice looking lady picked up the bag I was in. When we got to the lady’s home, she put my neighbors and I in a bowl. Then we got in the car again and we went somewhere. When we got out of the car we saw a sign that said, ‘‘Welcome to the Alaska Day parade!’’

Then the nice lady gave us to the little girl that was wearing a big dress and a big hat. The girl sat in the back of the decorative wagon and held us in her lap. The lady hooted, ‘‘Good luck Emma!’’ So the girl’s name is Emma.

A guy shouted, ‘‘Get ready the parade starts in two minutes!’’ Everybody did the last finishes touches to their floats and/or costume. Everyone started driving or walking down the road. Emma is throwing candy.

A boy on the side of the road roared, ‘‘Yay, candy!’’

Katie was holding an upside down umbrella to catch candy in.

‘‘Here comes the claw! I hope I’m next! Oh, no! I’m stuck to the bowl!’’ yelled Fred.

Fred was the last piece of candy in the bowl, so a hand reached down or him and Fred hollered, ‘‘Yay, I’m getting thrown!’’

I landed right in Katie’s upside down umbrella. Katie said, ‘‘Yeah.’’ Then she put me in the bag. I said, ‘‘Hello, new neighbors.’’ We keep hearing lots of noises. After a while, Katie picked up the bag we were in. We got in a car and went to her house. When we got home, Katie sat on the couch and turned on the TV. She picked me up and said ‘‘I will save you for last.’’ Then she put me to the side and started to eat the other candy.

 

‘‘The Pin’’

By Zofia Danelson

Ninth Grade

High School – First Place

The cascade began. Water dripped, dropped, and poured down the drains of the small seaside town. Having lived here for all of my life, this was pretty usual, especially on this event’s date. Today was Alaska Day, celebration of statehood and basically an excuse for everyone to get out of school early, shove on raingear and go revel downtown. This was how I, Calpurnia Pavlov, saw it anyway. My not-so-nice attitude about today really comes down to the fact that I’m in marching band and we always get soaked. Even if it is ice out. Sigh.

I walked out of school, into the wet mess, and headed home. Suddenly, on the side of the road, almost in the gutter, I saw a small object. It looked like a really old Alaska Day pin. I picked it up and suddenly was whisked forward into nothingness. When I blinked open my eyes, downtown Sitka had changed. Everything looks so different, I thought. The usual, rain-decayed cars parked around had turned into the boxy cars of the late 1940s.

‘‘Oh great,’’ I groaned. Now I knew I would be late for marching band line-up.

I turned around and instead of seeing the customary statues of ‘‘Skagway Will,’’ all I saw was a large white sheet. Crowds of people littered the streets. I looked very out of place with my Xtratuffs, saxophone case, and orange raincoat. Quickly, I shoved the coat in my case and put it all in the bushes nearby. I asked a man who was selling raincoats in a store if he would sell me one for half-price. After a few minutes of bargaining, I had managed to buy the coat for a grand total of five dollars. The church bells rang one and the parade began.

‘‘Hey you! Yes you! Get out of the way!’’ a man cried.

I was shoved roughly aside by a group of boys trying to see the parade floats. I glared at the unapologetic faces of the group and began to walk down the street. After about twenty minutes, all that was left of the celebration downtown was a few stray pieces of confetti and people milling around in small groups.

‘‘Are you going to the unveiling?’’ a small girl asked her friend.

‘‘I certainly am,’’ I muttered under my breath.

Heading towards the Pioneer Home, I kicked the puddles already forming from the drenching downpour that had started at the end of the parade. As I reached the brown grass that held the white sheet, an important-looking figure pulled the covering of the statue off. The crowd gasped as the familiar face appeared. I looked at it with wondering eyes. The old, worn thing looked brand new and it shone in the light of the one sunbeam that had managed to peek out of the clouds. A small bird landed on the top of the prospector’s head and it completed the picture. Walking up to the statue, I rested my hand on the circular base. A youthful photographer came up to me and asked if I  would mind if my picture was on the front page of the Daily Sitka Sentinel. Thinking nothing of it, I said yes.

‘‘Thank you miss, most people are too busy celebrating and bustling around today to stop for a picture,’’ the grateful man called over his shoulder.

Climbing up on the statue, I trailed my hand on the huge shoes the old sourdough wears. Once again, I was dragged forward and to the future.

I was back to my rain-soaked hometown. A cry escaped my mouth.

‘‘Oh no! I left my saxophone and coat in the 1940s!’’ I gasped.

I ran down to the bush where I had left it. Now grown taller and greener, it towered over most of the garden which had been there. Tucked in the corner, I found it. Overgrown and wet, I found the black case. Ripping it out of the vines, I flipped it open and found everything rather dewy, but still usable. That’s lucky, I thought. Running ... no, sprinting to the parade lineup, I made it into my spot just as the parade began.

‘‘Calpurnia, where were you?’’ my fellow saxophonist called.

‘‘I had a blast to the past,’’ I smiled.

The next day, the newspaper concerning the Alaska Day festivities was published. On the front page was a throwback image to the day when ‘‘Skagway Will’’ was unveiled. I was in the picture.

 

‘‘The Calm Before the Storm’’

By Ashlyn Nutting

High School – Second Place

Desperation, desperation and chaos filled the air, choking her, stealing her air.

Keep moving, keep moving! Don’t stop! KEEP MOVING!

Her thoughts faded until all she could hear was the even pattern of her feet slamming against the concrete repeatedly, and the pumps of her increasingly quickening heartbeat feeding crucial blood to her body. Finally, she stopped running. Her feet remained in one place now. Not because she had reached her destination, no, but because she had met her end.

Five Hours Earlier:

Amelia thought it quite strange that the Alaska Day parade was still taking place. In her opinion, this particular October 18th (of the year 2074, to be exact) had no reason to be celebrated. She hadn’t even celebrated her birthday that year because of the travesties, and they say twenty-one is a very important age. The Third World War had torn apart the country, and yet the festivities rage on, almost as if the happy shouts and noisemakers of the parade could drown out the horrible cries and desperate calls for help that could be heard from all four corners of the world. Concentration camps took the place of former Walmarts and Targets in the lower forty-eight, and battle stations stood where amusement parks had once flourished. Of course, Sitka, Alaska, was still a part of the quickly shrinking United States that hadn’t been taken over and destroyed by war, and apparently, that was something to celebrate.

So, Amelia, with her rain jacket (of course it was raining), found herself in front of the small church, ready to watch the parade with the rest of the town. After a few minutes of waiting, the traditional parade acts made their way down the street, with the marching band behind them. As she watched the expressions of pure euphoria cloud the faces of the parade-goers, Amelia began to think that maybe a parade in the middle of a war wasn’t such a bad idea. For once, the children weren’t hugging their mothers’ knees, but instead were racing out to collect candy. The teachers even looked a little less tired, as if they hadn’t been running bomb shelter drills at school all day. It was, as the old expression goes, the calm before the storm.

The peaceful escape lasted a while longer, until the armed forces marched through, firing blanks on their rifles, and the Coast Guard helicopters soared overhead. It just after that when the people as a whole seemed to realize that the hovering shapes overhead weren’t the traditional Coast Guard helicopters, and the blanks weren’t the only things being fired. The exclamations that had once been joyful were suddenly shrieks of horror, as the now sinister figures in the sky released their even more sinister cargo. Bombs. Bombs. BOMBS!

All at once, as if it were planned, the town took a collective breath, and everything stilled, as if time was frozen. Then, everyone ran. Children were desperately escorted to shelters, and the elderly were whisked away in their wheelchairs by volunteers, because even in the midst of a crisis, the community of Sitka wouldn’t abandon each other. Looking back, Amelia realized this was more of a fatal flaw than anything, for it had nearly doubled the amount of casualties. She stood by for a moment, unable to move, unable to think, until a bullet missed her by centimeters. Then, she ran.

Her feet carried her past the burning buildings and immense amounts of loose rubble until she found herself on the bridge. She wasn’t alone of course; it seemed most of Sitka had decided to flee to the harbor. Amelia ignored them as she raced for the boats, out of breath. Her lack of air had almost nothing to do with the physical exertion, because adrenaline pumped through her veins, filling her with energy. Amelia’s inability to draw breath was due to the fact that the screams and dropping bodies all around her seemed to be cutting off her air supply in a way that lack of oxygen never could.

All throughout this, she hadn’t stopped running, and now she found herself in the parking lot of the harbor. Amelia came to a halt when her eyes found the strikingly tall man, clad in an all too familiar uniform with an evil, bone chilling, sneer upon his face. His chapped lips were moving, exposing his yellowing teeth, but Amelia couldn’t hear a word that came out of his mouth. It was when he raised his gun that she realized what he had been saying, but it didn’t matter now. She was about to die. She had just turned 21, had been just about to start a new job, and she was about to die. The man pointed his gun at Amelia’s head and she heard the sickening click of a bullet being released into the chamber, ready to fire. The cries of the people around her faded to a single, monotonous hum until the unmistakable ring of a gunshot broke through the drone.

Amelia raised her head, and was for a moment, disoriented. If this was what death felt like, she wasn’t sure she liked it much. Everything was a bit blurry until a falling silhouette came into focus. The man in the enemy uniform no longer had a gun pointed at her head. Instead he wore his final badge of honor, a growing crimson stain right over his heart.

Amelia didn’t hesitate to jump to her feet and run down the ramp to the harbor as fast as she could, never looking back to see who had shot her attacker. There, a rescue boat was waiting, with a crew of men helping other survivors on board. Without any hesitation, Amelia jumped onto the boat with the help of a young man. She never turned her head back towards the dying town, not once on the whole journey to Juneau.

10 Years Later:

It would be her first time back in the small town since the disaster so many years ago. Truthfully, Amelia had been ready to return for about seven months now, but it seemed only right that she go back on the day she left, Alaska Day (October 18, 2084, this time). The war had been won, and the concentration camps liberated, so she felt that a celebration was most definitely in order. As the plane landed, Amelia, with her husband and three year old boy by her side, looked out in awe at the beauty of Sitka, Alaska. And as the family of three watched the parade, the same gleeful smiles graced the faces of the people, just as they had ten years ago. But this time, there was no impending threat of a raging war, the looming figures overhead had the unmistakable orange coloring of Coast Guard helicopters, and the shots that were fired were most definitely blanks.

 

‘‘Memories’’

By Laura Everson

High School – Third Place

As I pushed my way through the crowds of people that filled the road I couldn’t help thinking how easy this was. All these people wearing anything from fancy dresses to little more than rags, just standing there waiting for some silly statue to be unveiled, big whoop. They looked like so many sardines in a can. I scooted around a man who was standing there with his arm around some lady’s waist, both of them dressed in fancy well to-do clothes. I bumped into him and reached into his pocket, taking a few coins and slipping them into my pocket all within a few seconds.

  “Sorry.” I murmured keeping my head down.

  “Stupid boy,” the man said angrily clipping my ear. “Watch where you’re going next time.”

 I murmured sorry again before I slipped away from him, feeling the coins jingle in my pocket. I looked back and unable to see him anymore, I let the smile I had been holding in fill my face. All in a day’s work I thought to myself as a slipped through the crowd taking a few coins here and there. I was practically born for the job. My hair was the color of mud so I never stood out in a crowd and my face did not have any features that would make it easy to recognize me.

I was just one of hundreds of boys who ran around through the crowd. Of course I only took from the more wealthy, the others needed every coin they could find. I heard a commotion in front of me. Slipping forwards I could see the same man I had bumped into earlier holding on to a boy’s arm and shaking him. The boy was clutching something in his hand and I was willing to bet anything that is was the man’s wallet. The boy was in trouble, but that was the law of the street, you either got good fast or you went home hungry or in this boy’s case you wind up in the town jail for a few days.

I had been lucky, when I first found myself in the street I had met a man who gave me a nice place to stay. I still lived with him but he was older now and ill, so I had to learn the art of pickpocketing from one of the older boys in order to provide for both of us. I knew that at this point I could leave and live a live on my own, but he had taken care of me when I could not take care of myself and I planned to return the favor.

I sighed and turned away from the scene. Hopefully the boy could get away on his own because I had too many of my own problems to deal with now. At thirteen I had more on my plate than most twenty-two year olds. A loud voice boomed from the front of the group. I slipped through the crowd again moving up to the front. As I passed by the man, who was still gripping the boy’s arm, I looked up and met the eyes of the boy who had gotten caught. His feet were floating slightly off the ground and his eyes were wide with fear and pain from being help up by only one arm.

He looked to be about ten and from his slight frame I could tell that this was not the first time he had been caught. His eyes were a kind of blue-green with little bits of hazel. I looked him over taking it all in in only seconds. When you live on the street you learn to judge people quickly. I had been a little younger than him when my parents had died and my uncle, who had never married and did not care for children, had told me I could either leave or get thrown out. Like that was a choice. I felt bad for the kid. At least I had found a place to stay when it first happened, otherwise that would probably have been me hanging there. To be honest I felt bad for the kid. So as I walked by I bumped into the man as hard as I could. The guy had been focused completely on the kid and when I bumped into him he toppled over and let go in order to catch himself. The kid landed on his feet a surprised look on his face then scampered off into the crowd. I nodded my head once and then continued on my way through the crowd.

As I got closer to the front I heard a voice shouting over the crowd, barely audible. Finally after ducking under a person’s arm I made it to the front of the crowd. There was a man standing in front of the pioneer home shouting, trying to be heard over the roar of people. I could make out a few words here and there.

“It is my honor….. nation…...accepted our …. pioneers that….” and a few other bits and pieces. Behind him was a statue that was covered by a white cloth. I hated to admit it but I was curious about what that statute was. Remus, the man who took me in, said it was a celebration marking the day that Alaska joined into the US. Even though it had happened long ago this was the first time that everyone had gotten together to officially celebrate. I understood that it was supposed to be a good thing and that we were better off now, but I was kind of insulted. I mean it made me feel like I was property, like the US had bought me. And what about the Indians? They were here long before the Russians. Why was the land not theirs? 

I thought about all these things and then my mind started to wander back to other memories. I thought about my family, my mom used to tell me about how the Russians had sold this land. We would all try to speak with a Russian accent for the rest of the day, pretending that the US had never bought Alaska. We used to get funny looks from our neighbors but my parents didn’t care. They had always said that such an important day must be celebrated. Now here was the whole town decked out and happy. It was almost like a memorial in memory of my family, the family that had always celebrated. I tried to push those thoughts from my mind.

With a sigh I shifted back into the crowd. I knew that the festivities were about to start, but I was in too bad of a mood to even try to celebrate. I had to get home anyway. Maybe next year I thought, maybe next year it will hurt less and I can celebrate. I knew I was kidding myself though. It would never get easier.

 

“Happy Alaska Day” I murmured to myself.

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