We are privileged to have historical storyteller, poet, and artist Bob Neeley as a contributor to the Copper River Record. In preparation for this series, CRR owner and publisher John Tierney spent some time visiting with him. Before they dove into his writings and drawings, Neeley directed Tierney to a site surrounded by important local history. He interpreted the landscape in a far ranging conversation.

Bob Neeley directed John Tierney to a site where an immense red boulder lay beneath a hill. His mother told him stories, he said, about pushing that rock down from the top of the hill with her friends. “They used to play up there.” He picked out a photograph from 1950, from when the village was located near where they stood, back behind where the post office is now. In the photo, Neeley is 1 year old, with his sister and his mom. “If you look at the picture,” he said, “there’s a cache in the back. It’s all furs underneath.” 

Neeley went on, “Where the school is, the village used to be there. My mom always said 1929 was when the world went to H---l. It used to be there [he pointed]- 60 log houses where Gakona River meets Copper River. A flood came in the winter and crushed all those houses. That’s the year she was born.” Gesturing along the river, he continued “She was born right over here, at fish camp, under a spruce tree. A lot of elders were born like that. My dad was born outside too at Old Chief Ewan’s house at the old village of Gulkana. What they believed was it was engii to be born in a building. (Loosely translated, engii means “a bad way”.)  To avoid that you’d be born outside like everyone else was at that time.” He trailed off. “I don’t know. The world changed. I was born in a hospital. 9th and L street.” 

My dad was a truck driver and a ‘dozer operator. He helped build the Alaska Highway. It was called a military road back then. They lived in those white tents. And then one day the operator banged on his door and told everyone, ‘Get out.’ As soon as they got out they crushed the house in 15 feet of gravel, the whole village. At the same time he helped build the military road, doing that work for the US Army.”

Neeley’s memories turned to stories he had heard about World War II from his family. He said the first time his mother saw a banana was during World War II. “Soldiers were here,” he said, “It was martial law. They couldn’t have lights on at night time. It was the first time they saw that many white people, and they saw Black people- they called them lt’uudzi, it means ‘black.’ They wanted to see what the white people eat so they went to their dump up Hogan Hill to see C-rations and stuff and that's where they got the banana. They brought it back here and a military guard was walking around and said ‘Where’d you get that banana?’ and they didn’t want to talk to him. They said, ‘No savvy English,’ and just left. Very few people talk about that time. My uncle Ben Neeley said he could see a fire across the river somewhere. He said that was a government spy.”

Neeley handed Tierney a file filled with stories, and said he is still writing more. There are dozens of photos and drawings to go with this work which we are currently curating and hope to bring to you both in the paper and electronically. 

“One of the reasons I write these things is my Dad. He had a dog team. His survival…”

Just this past year, Ahtna, Inc. built two cabins in traditional hunting areas for Ahtna people to use. Neeley was part of this effort that will provide shelter in case of emergencies in addition to a destination. The first cabin is at Middle Lake, next to Ewan Lake. “It’s about a mile away from where old chief Oscar Ewan’s cabin is.” He recalled there are also some graves near the site, including three children who died a long time ago. “Then we went across the river 30 miles and built a cabin there at Old Wilson’s Camp. They bought that; we stayed in the old cabin there and built a new one.” Historically, he said, “There was a trail from Myers Lake to Cantwell that they walked.”

Some restitution for the great losses of the 1940s will finally be paid to Neeley himself. “The elders told me that I’m entitled to land because the government destroyed our home. I already picked [a site] out. It’s on Mile 142. Somebody built a cabin there on Ahtna land. I went out there with Ahtna and we looked at it. It’s got several buildings there, a road, a little bridge, a gate. They said, ‘You could have that but you’ve got to go through Gulkana,’ so I put that in. I think I might get it.”

Tsin'aen Ne’k’eltaeni - Bob Neeley requested that all articles to do with him end with this: “Thank God.”

Article by Bob Neeley, John Tierney, and Allison Sayer

The headline of an earlier version of this article read “Old Gakona History with Bob Neeley.” This was an error. This story has been revised to correct other errors in the original version.