Cora's Letters

Day five, January 18, 1964 – Alaska or Bust

Dear Mom (and Dad),

We are somewhere in the Yukon, driving day and night. You disapprove of this move, especially driving to Alaska, but please know we will be okay. It’s an adventure for this Midwest girl!

The studded snow tires grip the road well (usually). Picture this, Dad – we tied our old waterbed frame to the roof of the van, placed our boxed belongings into the frame, covered it with tarps, and tied it down with heavy straps. Along the road or when stopping for fuel, we get bug-eyed gawkers staring in astonishment at our vehicle. Pete’s idea was crazy, but that extra weight maintains fabulous traction in the snow. 

We are driving day and night, downing cup after cup of strong coffee out of a giant thermos. We see beautiful afternoon pink and orange sunsets; daybreak comes at mid-morning as the orange sun globe slowly crests the horizon. It takes my breath away when it later glints off the snow-laden tundra. I wish you were here to see this!

We alternate driving, and my first leg on the Canadian side began at midnight today.  As the sun rose at 11 a.m., I saw a small herd of elk jumping a fence. Yes, Dad, the sun comes up right before lunch this far north! 

The air temperature is about negative fifty, and we continue to put the cardboard piece in front of the radiator and then watch the gauge. It climbs toward the red danger zone after an hour and a half, forcing us to stop and remove the makeshift “winter front.” This item keeps the radiator from freezing - it sounds crazy, but it is a necessity in this frigid climate. Do they use them in the upper Midwest winters?

I love you both. I am safe.

Cora

***

Day Seven, January 20

Hello Parents!

Our adventure kicked up a notch. A double semi came barreling up the road; we had a vantage point on a saddle of the road and spotted him a half mile out, winding around the curves. He lost control, and his tractor rig pushed snow up to the truck grill, appearing like a giant snowplow! The truck was immovable with so much snow under it. The Alcan’s ‘law of the land’ is that everybody helps everyone else, and there was much CB radio squawking. Some semi-drivers with shovels stopped but were unable to dig him out. A tow truck driver joined the CB radio conversation and said he would look out for him on his way in.

Wildlife spottings include Arctic hares, which are not easy to spot with their white fur on the snow. I also saw an Arctic fox run across the road, and oh, she was gorgeous with grayish-white thick fur. The evergreen needle trees here are short and spindly due to the extreme cold; I think they are spruce. We seem to be in a white flat world at the top of the Earth. I only see white; everything is snow-covered, including the short trees. The Canadian Alcan Road is frozen, hard-packed gravel and sits higher than the land. We don’t see many tire tracks; it’s usually us breaking the trail with our constant twenty-four-hour driving (except for short stops). The bit of traffic snaking through this wide expanse of white flatlands is nothing like the highways back home. 

Northbound and loving my adventure,

Cora

***

Day Nine, January 22, 1964

Most everything is closed here in the winter. We have two five-gallon gasoline cans tied to the back of the van. Yes, it is dangerous, but we have no choice; we cannot run out of gasoline. We saw the Yukon River in a valley below us this morning. Last night, I had to stop and pee in the road behind the van in the minus-fifty weather. The middle of the road was the only place safe, and I was quick about my business.

Mom, I know you are worried about the baby, but she is fine. She sleeps most of the ride; we have her small playpen behind the driver's seat. She is still wary of standing but loves sitting and rolling around in it. We rigged a safety net over the playpen and put bungee cords, zig-zagged, across the top to prevent her from flying out of it if anything unforeseen happens. 

Don’t be concerned. I have thought of everything: bumper pads line the edges of the playpen with large fluffy pillows, and we are constantly checking her when she is in it. No, Mom, she can’t choke or be strangled with the bungee cords. They are industrial, and there is no way she could undo them; they are up higher than her height. If she isn’t ensconced in her cubicle, one of us holds her in our lap. Your little granddaughter is safe and happy. She loves those jars of Gerber chicken sticks and sucks on the big pretzels; I give her apple or banana slices and oatmeal too. Yes, Mom, I ensure she is hydrated and that she doesn’t choke on the food. We all must hydrate extra because the air is so dry.

Love you. Baby Lanie blows a kiss.

Cora (and Pete)

P.S. I saw about twenty caribou jumping a fence from the road at dawn today. I was driving, and they were on the other side of the road. We are excited to try cross-country skiing, and I can’t wait to see Alaska in the summer.

***

Day Eleven, January 24

Hi!

Progress is slow because the weather is horrendous. A blizzard has stopped us for the night; we cannot see even inches in front of us. Pete has a line of Paracord we tie to the steering wheel and wrap around our chest if we need to leave the vehicle to do toilet duty. I have my sheepskin coat over me as a blanket, and the Coleman heater is running on low; I’m writing by flashlight. We run the heater for fifteen minutes and then shut it off with safety in mind. It makes me nervous to have it on because I’m afraid we will fall into a deep sleep and end up with a fire. I have trained myself when the Coleman is on only to take catnaps. Our weather gauge says it is negative forty-eight degrees outside. 

I hope we find a place to eat a hot meal tomorrow. I want to mail my letters home, too. Miss you guys!

Oh, and Dad, you would love watching Lanie laugh at Pete - he is so good with her, so gentle and thoughtful. She snuggles into his warm chest when he holds her. You guys need to make plans now for a trip up this summer!

Love you both,

Cora

***

Day Twelve, January 26, 1964

Hi, Dad and Mom,

Since the road is frozen solid, it feels like driving on asphalt; it’s a raised road with snow-filled culverts on each side. We found a place for breakfast this morning. The Canadian “regulars” inside stopped and stared as we entered the roadstop. It was very eerie and unfriendly. One guy followed us in and walked to the shelf lined with coffee mugs to get the one with his name on it – I guess the regulars have their own mugs and reserved tables. Harsh climates make for tight-knit communities.

My hair was so greasy from wearing the knit cap that I took shampoo into the restroom and washed my hair in the sink. I cleaned the area, wiped down the counter, left no hair in the sink, and put my knit cap back on. All the diners stared hard at me as I walked to my seat; most of my hair was covered, but I was certain they knew I had washed it in the bathroom. We paid our bill and hightailed it out of there. The stares and halted conversations when we entered were spooky, but then that silent staring continued – people always say how friendly Canadians are – not! 

At our stop for lunch, we met an old gold miner and his wife on their way home to Alaska after visiting their numerous children spread around the lower forty-eight states. Mutually, we decided to caravan together on the road since they knew every curve, fuel station, and eatery by heart. I believe he could drive without headlights; he had memorized the road. After caravanning behind them for an hour, a new blizzard set in, but they knew the way, and we followed them, talking on our CB radios. We caught glimpses of cliffs beside the road, but even in heavy snowfall, he knew where the road edge was. We kept our tires in his tracks. Evening came, then night, but we found no open facilities and finally pulled into a lodge closed for the winter in order to take naps in our vehicles. At two a.m., the temperature gauge said it was negative fifty-two.

Mom, Baby Lanie is well and happy and blows a kiss to you both. We love you.

Cora (and Pete)

***

Day Fourteen

Hi,

We crossed back into the U.S. Yay! The border crossing was tiny and remote, a garage-sized building with two officers; we had a quick, easy entry back to our country. Pete did a celebratory dance on the road to celebrate our arrival back into our home country. All bundled up in her pink snowsuit, Lanie was on my hip, laughing and watching her daddy dance.  Wish you guys were here!

Now, since the crossing, we have extremely bumpy roads. Maybe I should say wavy – the roads buckle due to permafrost, and when the ground thaws, it causes havoc on paved roads. The U.S. side is paved, whereas the Canadian side is frozen gravel. Driving this part of the Alcan reminds me of being in a speed boat, hitting the wakes caused by the other boats. We have to take it slow due to all the weight we have loaded onto the van. That weight kept us from sliding on the gravel road, but now it may cause us to break the muffler or undercarriage.

This afternoon, we said goodbye to Tug, the gold miner, and his wife, Bets. She gave us some fresh peanut butter sandwiches; he gave us good directions and the milepost marker for a road stop (also closed for the winter). Another night in the van, but it is a veritable heat wave now - the thermometer says it is negative twenty-nine degrees!

Pete is exhausted, so I have driven the last two hundred miles. I just stopped for a quick stretch; it is two a.m., and I am writing a quick note to you. We are almost to our destination! I guess I won’t get to mail the notes to you until we get to a big town, sorry. We are close to Glenallen, so maybe we can mail them today. Take a glance at the map and see where we are.

Love you,

Cora

***

Teletype Message

From Alaska Regional Hospital   

8^th and L Streets

Anchorage, Alaska

To: Gerald and Elisabeth Pittman

February 1, 1964

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Pittman,

The state police informed us of your plans to come to Anchorage and pick up your granddaughter. 

Your granddaughter, Lanie Rivers, is doing well. It was a bit touch-and-go for a while due to her frost-nipped ears. She had pulled her hood off her head, but the muffler scarf was wrapped loosely several times around her neck. This is what protected her nose and face from the cold. We found her sleeping peacefully in her crib, carefully tucked in amongst numerous pillows; her breathing into the blankets and muffler kept her warm and her facial skin safe from frostbite. She wore a pink snowsuit with wool socks and mittens. Her mother did a wonderful job in dressing her for the Arctic weather on that long trip up the Alcan! You can be proud of your daughter.

We eagerly await your arrival this week to pick up Lanie.

You asked for a written account of how your daughter Cora was found:

Cora Rivers, Caucasian, deceased, age twenty-seven. Cause of death: blood loss and hypothermia

Peter Rivers, Caucasian and Chippewa mixed heritage, age twenty-eight. Cause of death: vehicle accident

Cora was driving when a large moose jumped into the road, causing her to swerve and leave the road after colliding with the young moose. Peter was thrown from the vehicle and died from contusions to his head. Cora was jammed into the steering wheel, unable to free herself, bleeding profusely.  She died from blood loss and hypothermia. The state patrol determined that the weather conditions had been at least minus thirty-three degrees, and six to eight inches of fresh snow had fallen after the collision. The vehicle was found at approximately six a.m. on the morning of 31 January 1964.

The dead moose was found near the road. Eight-month-old Lanie was restrained in her playpen by the careful positioning of bungee cords across the top of it and all the cushioning inside it. She was dressed warmly and had recently consumed Gerber chicken sticks but was unable to get the last one stuck in the jar. The baby bottle was empty of water, and the second one was empty of milk; she had clearly drunk them because they found ice drops and frozen milk drops on her muffler scarf.  Her parents clearly had her safety in mind and gave the child easy access to food and drink while in the playpen.

Be assured, Mr. and Mrs. Pittman, your granddaughter was in stable and healthy condition when found. 

The state police have the household goods tied to the vehicle's roof. We can help you with locating a company to ship them home if desired. 

We have boxed up your family’s belongings from inside the van. You will find numerous letters from Cora about her road trip that were addressed to you, and we hope you will find comfort in them. 

It has been our pleasure to care for Lanie. Please accept our condolences for the death of your daughter and son-in-law.

Sincerely,

Cherrie Tom

Social Work Case Administrator

Alaska Regional Hospital