Editorial 9.8, August 2007, by Deirdre Helfferich Seasons 100! You hold in your hands the 100th issue of The Ester Republic. That represents 100 months of work with contributions from people all over the world (but mostly from Ester). There are 158 current subscribers (with a total of 344 subscriptions over the life of the paper) in four countries (Australia, England, Japan, and the US) and twenty-six states (even Texas!). The paper has gone from a newsletter-like format to one reminiscent of a magazine, and over the last several years has won awards from the Alaska Press Club for its editorial cartoons, opinion writing, and photography. Many contributors over the last eight years who first appeared in print in the Republic have gone on to further, more prestigious publishing credits. The paper has, I think, achieved success—even if it still doesn’t pay my household bills. I do have plans to expand the Republic, though: I’ll be adding a health column, an economics section (look out, Ester Chamber of Commerce!), and expanding the Events & Entertainment subsection. I’m even thinking about hiring a reporter, but that might be too much like a real paper…mebbe I ought to pay the publisher something first. Calendar Girls Sunday, August 5, was rainy and wet, and when I pulled up with my broccoli/cauliflower salad at the big tent next to Photosynthesis and saw only four of my fellow models, I shrugged and thought, oh, well, it’ll still be fun even if nobody shows up. But after a while, the party got rolling, and women from Monique Musick’s 2006 (“There’s gold in them there hills”), 2007 (“Mining our own business”), and 2008 (“The Arts and Mines of Ester”) Women of Ester calendars arrived to sign their portraits for various autograph-seekers. Dave Hyland provided the large red-and-white tent [note: actually it was ABR who provided the tent; Dave provided erection guidance], and grilled hot dogs, hamburgers, and zucchini sticks (plus he kept cracking a lot of off-color jokes). People came to buy calendars from all three years (one man was from Turkey, another was on a mission on behalf of men working the North Slope oil fields, and several women came to purchase copies for themselves). For a rainy day, it was a pretty good turnout. The food was good, the company entertaining, and for those of you who stayed home because of the soggy weather, all I can say is, you missed out. And oh, yeah—the calendar girls got a bunch of mardi gras beads from the photographer (we’ve already bared all). Berry Season This has got to be the most spectacular berry year in better than a decade. Hans and I actually got a couple of handfuls (finally!) of wild strawberries this year. Usually the voles and birds eat ‘em up so fast we barely get to spot the green fruit before it’s gone. I didn’t get out in time to do justice to the raspberries, but even so, we were able to pick a gallon from the bushes in our own yard—an amazing harvest, given how small the berry patch is. I can already see the ripening highbush cranberries (can’t smell ‘em yet, though), and I hear the blueberries are great. Mary Ireland found a patch with thumbnail-sized wild blueberries. “Too many to pick,” she said. (We’ll see about that!) This is indeed the appropriate fall to have a berry-themed music festival on behalf of the library (see the library news, p. 7, and the announcement, p. 24). I’m looking forward to the blueberry sourdough pancakes and the berry pie-baking contest! I’m not sure my somewhat twiggy blueberry pie recipe will pass muster with the judges, though. The Ester Gold Camp That institution of modern Ester, the Ester Gold Camp, will be closed, perhaps for good, next season. LeRoy Zimmerman (Photosymphony) and Hope Colitz (In the Heart of Ester) have already been given the word. Where will our village business district relocate itself? What will Ester do without its genuine tourist trap to keep the barflies at the Golden Eagle entertained? How will we mark the onset of summer without that great hassle-the-actors event, Ester Night at the Malemute Saloon? Where will we bring our visiting friends and relatives to eat far too much crab at one sitting? There is an outside chance that the camp will reopen in 2009, but if you want to experience the northern song-and-dance comedy-and-variety show that has been a part of the village since Don “What time train come from east?” Pearson opened it in 1958, you’ve got two and a half weeks, and then that’s all she wrote. | ||
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