Faith Alaska: The Goode Family

By J Hirtle

Follow the Goode family as their tales of life in Alaska continues. In J Hirtle's latest story, the faith of the second generation Alaskans will be tested against the mighty power of the Last Frontier. As the world watches the beginnings of a war in Europe, the people of Faith watch their world turn white when an avalanche slides down a mountain colliding with life in Faith, Alaska. Thomas Goode and his father will begin a search for his brother and others with courage and prayer as their only guide. For young Thomas the true meaning of Christmas would be revealed on Sovereign Mountain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jim Hirtle
• Release date: May 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393208440

Book preview

Also, by J Hirtle

Going Numb

The Wooden Box

Broken Crosses

The Last Storyteller

Beautiful Dying

It Takes a God

Goode Faith

Addicted to Faith

Shadow of Faith

You can learn more about Jim or contact him through his blog, addictedtofaith.blogspot.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright © 2013 J Hirtle

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author. Write to: J Hirtle 161 Cactus Wren Loop, New Braunfels, TX 78130

Dedication

For my grandchildren

Never stop imagining

Chapter One

December 1939

The three old men sat around the table in Sal’s Diner drinking coffee and talking about the war in Europe. That seemed to be all anybody was talking about these days; would the United States get involved? Thomas Goode sat at the counter listening to the men talk. He didn’t understand most of what they were talking about, at twelve years old his understanding of world geography was limited to the mountain we lived on. And the only thing he knew about politics was that his grandfather, one of the old men sitting at the table, didn’t care much for Faith’s mayor, one Charles Carson. Mayor Carson was from San Francisco, California. He had come to Alaska like so many others hoping to strike it rich. When that didn’t happen, he decided he would stay in Alaska to pursue a new career, (most think Carson didn’t have the means to get back home). Somehow, he ended up in Faith and before you knew it, he had worked his way into the position of mayor, a position that Thomas’ grandfather, Abram Goode, said wasn’t needed and was a waste of time.

Abram Goode is my father; he was one of the early settlers of Faith. In 1915 he left Homer, Alaska leaving the coal mining business behind and traveled to Anchorage. There he got hired on to help build the railroad. His father and his brother, Joseph, weren’t happy about my father leaving the family business, but he told me once that my mother, Sally Goode the proud owner of this very diner, had told him that if he didn’t leave the coal mines then she might just have to leave him. Four years later he landed in Faith and hasn’t left since.

Sally, known to most as just Sal, came out of the kitchen carrying a platter with the sweetest cinnamon rolls this side of Heaven. Still warm from the oven, the icing rolled down the sides, pooling on the platter. The sugary aroma filled the diner. She walked to the table where the three men sat.

Would you gentlemen like a roll, hot out of the oven and sweeter than a Christmas kiss?

All together they answered Yes!

Well, the only way you get to taste these rolls is if you quit all this talk about the war. In case you gentlemen haven’t noticed we have our own worries right here on the mountain. Sal looked out diner’s front window, I’ve got a bad feeling.

Heavy snow was falling again.  For the last ten days, you would have seen the same view looking out that window. The snow was wet and dense making traveling by foot, horse or dog sled treacherous. December snow in Alaska isn’t a surprise to anybody, but every so often Mother Nature will deliver more than we need.  I couldn’t remember a winter like this.

Sal set the platter on the table, I heard that almost six feet of snow have fallen on the mountain chair, you all know that the snow hold was already weak. So, stop talking about war and start praying that snow doesn’t break loose. The mountain is warning us, you best pay heed.

Four thousand feet above the town of Faith are the peaks of the Talkeetna Range, Granite Mountain, and Sovereign Mountain. Between those peaks and our small town is a massive glacier field. The early snows my mother spoke of came the week before Thanksgiving. That snow had frozen and turned to solid ice; ultimately creating a sheet of ice or a snow hold, which sits on the face of the glacier, an older sheet of ice. A third layer is created when new snow falls. That layer will act as a blanket to the frozen snow below it. When the weather warms the lower layer can start to melt, becoming unstable. Then if it shifts the whole thing can come sliding down the mountain; an avalanche.  If it comes down the mountain your only hope is prayer. I know that is a lot of ifs but living in Alaska means always being ready for the what ifs.

I can tell you now we weren’t ready.

Two days after Sally Goode set that platter of cinnamon rolls on the table, the lower layer of snow shifted, and an avalanche collided with Faith Alaska.

Some people may think that’s the end of the story. An avalanche will put an end to many things but not to this story. I lost a lot when that snow came down the mountainside; this story is about what I gained.

Doc Parrish stuck his old crooked finger into the icing that had dribbled onto the platter, You are half right Sally Goode; this icing is sweeter than a Christmas kiss but praying that snow doesn’t come hauling down the mountain like a runaway train is a waste of your time. You’d be better off praying that the good Lord lets you make tracks out of here faster than an avalanche falls; now how ‘bout warming up my coffee?

My mother playfully slapped Doc’s hand, Keep your meat hooks off the food until you give thanks to the same God you doubt Doc Parrish.

Emmitt Green, Doc’s best friend and the spiritual stronghold for most in people living in Faith laughed out loud, Doc Parrish say a prayer of thanks! I would give all my folding money to hear that prayer!

Doc mumbled something that no one understood and then picked up a cinnamon roll and shoved about half of it in his mouth. Young Tommy had been watching all along and let go his own chuckle, which was received with a sideways and disappointing glance from his grandmother as she walked back into the kitchen.

Doc, why do you have to be such a pill? Abram asked. That woman would do anything for you and acknowledging God ain’t going bring you no harm.

If my father’s rebuke caused Doc any discomfort, he certainly didn’t show it. Truth be known I walked into Doc’s office one morning and there he was, head bowed, hands folded and praying to God. I remember he opened his eyes and was surprised to see me standing there. He said something about getting old and falling asleep at his desk. I didn’t say anything then and I didn’t say anything that morning in the diner. In fact, no one said anything. The silence brought on by my father’s remark to Doc was heavy.

Doc Parrish washed the sweet roll down with a gulp of coffee before finally answering, I’m just remembering, that’s all. I’ve seen avalanches come down this mountain before, there is no stopping them. There was a preacher from the Yukon visiting here in 1916 when an avalanche killed three people, including a baby. That family never heard the warnings because there ain’t any warnings. An avalanche is as quiet as a snow fox when it starts down. By the time you hear it it’s too late. They stayed in that little cabin of theirs unaware of the power of this mountain. That little family was a part of my family.  And what did that preacher have to say, what were his words of comfort? I’ll tell you, he called it an act of God! Well, that must have been one pissed off God! Pardon my foul language, but every time I think of that preacher I get madder than anything.

This time the silence was so thick you could have cut it with a pocket- knife. The sounds of silence were only augmented by the howling wind outside the little diner. Doc Parrish had spent more years on this mountain than most people and he knew her power better than almost anyone. He came here 1914 acting as the doctor for the Alaska