Revisiting the Past
I took some time this afternoon to see if I could locate the places we lived at when we were in Anchorage in the 1960s. The city has grown far beyond what were the outskirts in those days. The Sears Mall used to be out on the east in of town, which was defined by the Seward Highway in those days. Spenard was an actual suburb, instead of a district. No one lived on the Hillside--at night the mountain sides were dark.
We moved from Fairbanks to Anchorage in the summer of 1965 and lived on the corner of Eighth Avenue and M Street, within walking distance of downtown. On M and 9th stood the ruins of a partially-completed apartment building that had been razed by the Good Friday Earthquake. The L Strret Apartments building was crazed with cracks and stood empty. Providence Hospital was kitty-corner to us on Eighth and L, much smaller than the grand complex Providence now occupies across town but then--as now--it was the largest hospital in Anchorage. The Sisters of Providence had their convent across the street from the us. It was a quiet neighborhood.
Lo, forty-some years later, it still looks like a quiet neighborhood. The building wears fresh paint and looks well-cared-for. We lived in apartments on the top floor for that first year.
In 1966 we moved out to Turnagain. The area we moved to had been badly impacted by the earthquake. The street we lived on ended against the bluff that overlooked the tilted topography that became Earthquake Park.
When did the trees get so big? Our old black-and-white photos showed vast amounts of white sky and open yards. David and I played on the topsy-turvy terrain of the earthquake slide area and along the steel-blue waters of Knik Arm. Northern Lights Boulevard was a narrow road that led back toward Spenard and civilization. A spindly row of young birch trees formed an ineffectual boundary between our back yard and the road. Across the road was wilderness and wastelands that stretched to the airport.
This photo was taken looking down this street in February 1968 from a point just before the rise in the road.
I can't get over how the trees have grown. Well, it has been forty years. We lived on Hood Court from 1966 until the summer of 1968, when we moved back to Washington, just after Richard graduated from West High School.
I found our old house. It looks a bit less properous than it did in the old days but it has been painted recently and it still shelters a young family. Our yard was open, the trees little more than shrubs. I learned to drive from this driveway. Richard parked his first car here. Chrissie and Taffy, our little black dog and my orange-and-yellow cat, sunned themselves in the back yard of this house.
I think we were happy in those days.
We moved from Fairbanks to Anchorage in the summer of 1965 and lived on the corner of Eighth Avenue and M Street, within walking distance of downtown. On M and 9th stood the ruins of a partially-completed apartment building that had been razed by the Good Friday Earthquake. The L Strret Apartments building was crazed with cracks and stood empty. Providence Hospital was kitty-corner to us on Eighth and L, much smaller than the grand complex Providence now occupies across town but then--as now--it was the largest hospital in Anchorage. The Sisters of Providence had their convent across the street from the us. It was a quiet neighborhood.
Lo, forty-some years later, it still looks like a quiet neighborhood. The building wears fresh paint and looks well-cared-for. We lived in apartments on the top floor for that first year.
In 1966 we moved out to Turnagain. The area we moved to had been badly impacted by the earthquake. The street we lived on ended against the bluff that overlooked the tilted topography that became Earthquake Park.
When did the trees get so big? Our old black-and-white photos showed vast amounts of white sky and open yards. David and I played on the topsy-turvy terrain of the earthquake slide area and along the steel-blue waters of Knik Arm. Northern Lights Boulevard was a narrow road that led back toward Spenard and civilization. A spindly row of young birch trees formed an ineffectual boundary between our back yard and the road. Across the road was wilderness and wastelands that stretched to the airport.
This photo was taken looking down this street in February 1968 from a point just before the rise in the road.
I can't get over how the trees have grown. Well, it has been forty years. We lived on Hood Court from 1966 until the summer of 1968, when we moved back to Washington, just after Richard graduated from West High School.
I found our old house. It looks a bit less properous than it did in the old days but it has been painted recently and it still shelters a young family. Our yard was open, the trees little more than shrubs. I learned to drive from this driveway. Richard parked his first car here. Chrissie and Taffy, our little black dog and my orange-and-yellow cat, sunned themselves in the back yard of this house.
I think we were happy in those days.
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