Learning from the Yup’ik: A once-in-a-lifetime deployment experience

By Lafe Low, Red Cross writer 

In early August last year, summer meltwater from the Mendenhall Glacier surged into the Mendenhall River, causing the river to overflow its banks just outside of Alaska’s capitol city of Juneau. Suicide Basin, situated between the Mendenhall and Suicide Glaciers, typically acts as a dam to glacial meltwater. Last year, however, the volume and force of the water combined with severe coastal storms was just too much. 

According to a press release issued by the Governor’s office, National Weather Service (NWS) and U.S. Geological Survey hydrologic monitors confirmed the volume of water within Suicide Basin had reached or exceeded levels never seen before. According to the NWS, the river crested at 16.65 feet, making this the largest glacial flooding event on record. Severe coastal storms that were the remnants of a Pacific typhoon exacerbated the already dangerous situation. 

As always, the American Red Cross was ready to respond. Ruth Lathrop of Windham, Maine, a seasoned volunteer disaster responder, deployed to Anchorage on October 17, and worked in the shelter for three weeks. The storms and floodwaters had destroyed many of the villages that were home to Alaska Natives, primarily from Yup’ik communities, and these displaced families were truly left with nothing. 

Ruth was with the first group of Red Crossers to arrive on scene in Anchorage. 

“We went up and helped set up shelters,” she says. “The villages were totally devastated. They had to lift people out with helicopters, take them to another place and register them with the Red Cross. Then they put them on a cargo plane and brought them to Anchorage to the shelter where we were.” 

The extent of the damage and the remoteness of the villages added to the challenges. “They are indigenous people. They work all summer doing their hunting and fishing, bringing in food because they can’t do it during the winter. When this flood came, it destroyed everything. They had no food left,” Ruth says. 

And it was estimated to be about 18 months before they would be able to return to their villages. 

“They don’t have roads. They use ATVs, four wheelers, and snowmobiles to get around,” Ruth explains. “There’s no way to get equipment in there to do the work. They take it in by barge. They were airlifting a lot of stuff. The Red Cross was able to get some people up there, but to get supplies, we had helicopters that were airlifting stuff down.” 

While safe and cared for after evacuation, many of the Yup’ik people hadn’t had much occasion to leave their coastal villages. Those who were cared for at the Egan Center shelter found themselves in the middle of bustling Anchorage, with the noise and population density that come with a mid-sized American city. 

“Some of the people had never been to the big city. Some had never been in cars. Some were scared to death of the elevator,” says Ruth. “It was the most eye-opening thing to see how people live differently than I’m used to. 

“At one point, this one family was getting ready to go out. We were right in downtown, and this little girl wanted no part of it,” Ruth continues. “I went over and asked her, ‘Don’t you want to go out? It’s nice and sunny.’ She said no because she was afraid. That stopped me in my tracks. She said I’m afraid of the big buildings. I’m afraid of the cars. When you stop and think about it, she has never seen big buildings like that.” 

Even feeding in the shelter had some unforeseen challenges. 

“We had a catering company serving three meals a day. The first two days, they were bringing in food more common to the lower 48. The Yup’ik people could not eat it, because it was all salty and greasy.” 

Among the evacuees was a village elder, deeply respected in the community, and able to serve as a cultural bridge, according to Ruth. 

“If anybody wanted anything, he made sure they got it. If we needed an interpreter, he was there to interpret. He got together with people doing the feeding and told them what they could eat,” she says. 

The Red Cross was then able to provide food that was culturally appropriate and more familiar to the Yup’ik way of life, including whole fish, like Alaskan salmon, and caribou meat. “One night, they brought in a whole seal that somebody had donated,” she says. 

The seal was blessed by a tribal elder and hand carved by a Yup’ik hunter. Ruth says the best part of her service there was getting to experience a new culture and learn from their way of life. 

“It was quite interesting just getting to know the people,” she says. “They were so sweet and so appreciative of everything we were doing for them.” 

One event that just sort of popped up during Ruth’s deployment was an impromptu children’s art gallery. “The art gallery was amazing. It started with a little boy bringing a picture to me. I asked, ‘Do you want me to hang it on the wall?’” Ruth remembers. “From there, it just exploded. We would ask them [about their drawings], so they started explaining them to us. Once we got them to open up about their drawings, I truly believe it was really good for the children to do that.” 

The art gallery then took on a life of its own, providing a beautiful outlet for the children and their parents during an inherently stressful time. 

“It went crazy. We had state representatives and delegates and all these important people coming through, and all sorts of Red Cross people coming through,” she says. “It started out on the Red Cross Alaska Facebook page. From there it went to local TV, then it went to national TV.” 

And thankfully, it will all be preserved. “It was taken to the Alaska Native Heritage Center (also in Anchorage), where it is probably going to be preserved as part of the history, because that storm really was historic,” Ruth says. “Part of it was going to a children’s hospital, and the rest is going to Red Cross offices.” 

From the shelter in the convention center, the families were transferred to local hotels for the rest of their stay. 

“We had a really nice van we put families in. We would take them into the hotel, introduce them to people at the desk, and get them registered. Then we would take all their stuff up to their room and make sure they were settled,” she says. 

Every aspect of the experience was new for most of these evacuees, especially the children. 

“We had child safety seats, and these children had never been in a child safety seat. They had no idea what it was,” she says. “One family had two little boys, so they had booster seats. When we got to hotel, we gave them the booster seats.” 

What happened next certainly put a smile on Ruth’s face. 

“These children were so excited about these seats. We go into the hotel, and they take their seats and they sat them on the floor and sat in them while mom and dad got registered. We got in the elevator, which they normally don’t like. They put their seats down on the floor and they sat there in them. It was the cutest thing ever,” she says. 

For Ruth, helping a community of people who had been forced to temporarily flee not only their homes, but their way of life was a humbling reminder of the things we may all take for granted. 

“It was the most memorable [deployment] because of the people and the way we had to adapt our mission delivery,” says Ruth. “It was just amazing to see the way the Yup’ik came together and took care of each other, and how much I learned from a culture different from mine. Their way of life is something we just don’t see anymore. It was a once in lifetime opportunity for me.”