Born in Fairbanks, Alaska Territory, I spent summers at my grandparents’ farm in Matanuska Valley. I was a frontier girl, growing up with subsistence living. I wanted horses, a farm, adventure, hunting, fishing, baking and living away from a city.
Four children and a divorce later, my dreams were still waiting for me.
At 51, I met and married a cowboy from Portland. Joey Lassiter was a cowboy in thought, word and deed. His favorite response to challenge, injury and derring-do was, “We be cowboy, Darlin’.”
Why did he try to ride a bull at age 40, and break his hand? Just to see if he could still ride a bull. “We be cowboy, Darlin’.”
Why drive an old broken-down pickup truck instead of buying a new one? “Darlin’, we be cowboy.”
Accidentally slice his thumb open? A normal person would get stitches. Nope. “We be cowboy.”
We bought 3 acres to begin farming in isolated Gustavus, population 350 counting the dogs. The only way to get there is by small planes or boat.
Married in Juneau on March 23, 2003, we honeymooned back in Gustavus with a house party of 11 family members and friends. We rented a jet boat and captain to take us from the wedding in Juneau to Gustavus and pick us up again in a week.
We missed the tide and had to go up the Salmon River in the dark. No lights whatsoever, and the captain was worried because the river was getting shallower as the tide rapidly went out. He bumped bottom and let us off on a small concrete float. My 79-year-old mother, also born in Alaska Territory and also an adventurer, walked the plank from the float to a rowboat, and another plank to shore, and up a steep riverbank. We bucket-brigaded all of the supplies by the plank method and waited on the shore.
Joey and my youngest daughter had gone off in the dark to find the rented car that was parked at the ocean dock about a mile from the river landing. (We had chartered a World War II landing craft to deliver household goods and our truck, but it had not arrived yet.) A cold wind was blowing. Finally Joey and my daughter came back, and we headed out on a dirt road in the pitch black.
Spring breakup had begun, with roads that thawed during the day and froze at night. There were muddy ruts 8 inches deep. Still no lights anywhere. We tried to drive on top of the ruts so we didn’t scrape bottom.
The next day, my adult daughter and I drove the five muddy miles into town to sightsee. The only “mercantile store” was open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Tuesday through Friday, and sold milk at $11.50 a gallon.
We were keeping an eye out for moose on the road on the way home when the muffler dropped into the mud. We got out and looked at it, dreading the 2½-mile walk ahead of us. There were no neighbors on our road.
Lo and behold, what should appear but two men hiking along in the middle of nowhere. Where did they come from and where were they going? Who cared? Serendipity!
They stopped, asked if they could help, found some string and tied the hot muffler up under the car, wherever mufflers hang out, then cheerily went on their way, waving off our profuse thanks. We so appreciated their help and that we didn’t have to walk the next two muddy miles.
Continuing on, we almost got stuck in the mud, but slid our way through the deepest parts being careful to maintain enough speed to not lose traction. We told Joey we dropped the muffler as soon as we got home. He said he’d fix it and went out and crawled under the car.
The next morning Joey and I headed into town and were about a mile from home when the muffler dropped into the mud again. He got out and looked under the car, lying on his back in icy, muddy water.
“Oh no,” he said. “Now the muffler’s dropped off.”
“I thought you fixed it,” I replied.
“No, he said. “This is the muffler, I tied up the tailpipe for you.”
“I said muffler.”
“No,” he said. “I tied up the tailpipe.”
“Wait,” I, the newly wedded bride, said. “You mean you thought I said muffler when I really meant tailpipe?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied. Apparently he assumed I didn’t know what I meant because I was a woman.
“Darlin’,” I drawled. “We be Alaskan women. We know the difference between a muffler and a tailpipe.”
He fixed the muffler without another word.
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