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After 32 years, Jim and his brother Don were able to meet again this September. Don and his wife, Ellie, came to Fairbanks to visit us for two weeks, and Jim and Don spent 7 days of that time at Jim's hunting camp, on a moose hunting trip. Only three years apart in age, they were very close when they were children, but lost contact as both left their home state in young adulthood. Since Don settled in New York state, and Jim went to Alaska, they just could not get together, and life changes took them further apart. Since we sold our airboat last winter and Jim's hunting camp is only accessible by airboat, Ron Richards, a friend and neighbor, took them up to the camp, leaving them off to be picked up a week later. Little did they know that just three days later the terrorist attack would take place. They were completely out of contact with the world. They had a great week up there, and had a lot of fun. Here are some photos to give you an idea what it was like.
I don't quite see how either of them became proficient at it, after listening to the stories about their hunting trips to New Hampshire for deer. Don seemed most proficient at sliding down icy trees while yelling at the top of his lungs, and Jim seemed most proficient at laughing so hard he broke his homemade tree stand and fell to the ground. I think most of the deer left the state when they arrived, to avoid the embarrassment.
These two boys must have driven their mother absolutely bananas, they got into so much mischief. One of my favorite stories is one that Jim tells about the time their mother took them outside to build a snowman. Jim was 5 or 6, Don about 3. She ran inside to do something, leaving them outside to play with this great snowman. It had a top hat, carrot for a nose, scarf around its neck... the whole shot. While little Donnie played in the snow, Jimmie found out that he could push the broom handle (it was holding a broom) clear through the head where the mouth was. So... he called Donnie over to look into the hole from the backside, put him into position, and was inserting the broom handle into the front of the hole (so he could shoot Donnie in the eye) when his mother spied him from the window. She began pounding on the window for him to stop, but he paid no attention. She then pounded so hard she broke the window! Boy, did Jimmie get a lickin' for that one! Let me tell you, they have many stories like that and worse, and can go on about them by the hour there are so many.
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