Photo: Richardson Highway near Thompson Pass 1989, collection of the artist.
Hearing the tragic news of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico resonates tension in my gut, and produces memories of the hysteria and horror on March 24, 1989 when the Exxon Valdez struck Bligh Reef in Prince William Sound, Alaska. Flashbacks to the early days of the oil clean-up effort in the sound happen whenever I hear about the hard working folks struggling in the Gulf. My heart goes out to all who are trying to stop that awful debacle. The event in Alaska is minuscule in comparison to the spill in the Gulf now, even though it is considered one of the largest environmental disasters of our time. The Exxon Valdez changed many of our lives including mine, my story begins the week before…
Prince William Sound Community College is located in the tiny town of Valdez, Alaska, reached by a two lane road 306 miles from Anchorage climbing over two spectacular mountain ranges and winding through the interior wilderness. Valdez is very isolated, during that era it was served once a week by the Alaska State Ferry, and a three times a week round trip flight from Anchorage. The college hired me to teach a five day Painting Workshop beginning March 24, 1989. I arranged housing with good friends and worked diligently the week before to free my busy schedule as a mom, artist, and partner in a small fast food restaurant, rescheduling art commissions, painting for shows, and travel as Artist-in-Residence in the Wangell-St. Elias National Park.
The phone rang early in the morning the day I planned to drive the 2 hour trip from Copper Center to Valdez, it was the very worried voice of the Dean of Instruction. “There’s been an accident,” he said excitedly, “an oil tanker grounded in the sound and everyone is on alert, no one knows the extent of the damage,” he continued to explain that he felt very few people would show up for class and asked to cancel and reschedule. He seemed distraught, like he knew more than he could reveal until it was official. Rumors were rampant in a small town, no need to concern others unnecessarily.
Within a few hours the fear of a big spill was confirmed. The managing company, VECO, put out word for help, they needed people who could come immediately but, they warned don’t come unless housing was secured. I hopped a flight with friends from Glennallen to survey the situation and spent a few hours wandering around the almost abandoned, empty Valdez air terminal asking questions. I soon met a fellow who had been hired by VECO to form a helicopter operations base at the airport. After a short discussion, with my credentials as a private pilot, I was hired to help as soon as possible. I flew home and drove down the next day arriving at the home of my friends with enough gear to stay for a week, eager to help. I stashed my belongings and headed out to the airport as if I were on an urgent mission. Grim faces and worried looks greeted me, people were milling about without purpose seeking ways to help. There was absolutely no organization, no plan, nothing. I stood with my art sketchbook, pencil and pen, ready…..little did I know I would do no artwork, nor leave the building during the 14 hour days, and fall in bed exhausted for more than six weeks!!
More tomorrow,
Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist
