brontë velez in Southeast Alaska (credit: Heather Bauscher).

For the past few years, SCS has had the pleasure of hosting artists and changemakers of different practices and backgrounds at the Phonograph Creek property left to us by Eric and Pam Bealer. The goal of this project is to connect people to the Tongass and inspire them to create from their experiences, continuing the Bealers’ artistic legacy. The following is a reflection from brontë velez, a black/Latinx social justice activist, artist, and creatrix who joined us in summer of 2020. 

Around this time last year, I was returning from an annual fast in southern California, with my elders, to recommit and re-confirm the prayer of my life. The valley that calls me to pray is the ancestral lands of the Paiute-Shoshone people - the land is known as Payahuunadu which means where the water flows.

This naming does not feel tethered to the practice of territorializing or colonizing a place but rather the relational call-and-response that emerges from the wisdom of ecological and ceremonial attention — when reverence, witnessing and tending draw forth worship from you, enough to grant the patterns in a place recognition — to re-indigenize the locus of agency: that perhaps it’s irreverent and audacious to think it’s possible to cast a name on a valley but rather what relationship is fortified when we listen for the agency of the water’s longing to recognize their self through our language and to find themselves pronounced through the gratitude of our breath?

Payahuunadu (Wikipedia).

Payahuunadu is also the valley where the Department of Water and Power in LA covertly bought up huge swaths of land in the early 1900s to steal and redirect water from the “Owens Valley” (settler-colonial name for Payahuunadu) to LA. It’s where William Mulholland, the engineer on the aqueduct project famously said during the aqueduct opening ceremony, “There it is. Take it.” His words a reflection that the settler-colonial recognition of water has predominantly been a project of extraction rather than relationship. 

Emerging from my fast last year, I along with my friends, partner and co-liberators were invited to southeast Alaska to humbly bear witness to Lingít, Haida, Tshmishian territories in the Tongass National Forest in collaboration with For The Wild and Sitka Conservation Society. I arrived to the crisp, cool air of Alaska reluctantly - not sure if I was making the right decision to go, especially while millions of acres of wildfires burned in California simultaneously. I asked myself if I was escaping the smoke, if I was running away. I felt self-conscious of leaving my community at such a critical moment to be in a geography that I did not call home, especially during the pandemic. 

During my discernment process, I recalled a dream I had a couple of years prior when I was invited to Alaska at a different moment with my friend Ayana who is the ED for For The Wild. At that time it didn’t make sense for me to go but I received a dream after the invitation where I was in the Tongass lying naked on the earth and there was a chorus of voices announcing Dr. King’s admonition that, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” (Letters From A Birmingham Jail.). 

This second invitation to Alaska felt clear to follow that dream into the waking and to trust that the watersheds and bioregions that water me, and that I in reciprocity protect and defend in California with my kinfolk, are not separate from Alaska. To disentangle myself from the story that glaciers being disappeared in southeast Alaska are separate from the water swallowing my ancestral island of Borikén (“Puerto Rico”). To trust that these lands and stories signified by extraction, be it water or old-growth or metals or oil or indigenous displacement or racial injustice are all deeply connected. And that it’s critical now, more-than-ever, to be present to weave the threads and to bear witness.

brontë velez and dancer/artist Stephanie Hewett (credit: Molly LeeBove).

This year, I emerged from my fast with the invitation from Heather Bauscher, SCS’s Tongass’ Community Organizer who supported organizing our time in and with SE Alaska, to offer my reflections on my time there. When Heather invited me to reflect I felt the year cycle, the seasons shift, the preparation for Rosh Hashanah that I was in the year prior when we were invited. As I write this I am in the month of Elul in the Jewish calendar, the last month of the year, preparing with my partner and friends to limb the trees here in Kashia Pomo territory as we prepare for fire season and offering good fire through a prescribed burn this winter. 

This year’s Rosh Hashanah will mark a shmita year in the Jewish cosmology of time - shmita occurs every 7 years as a practice in extending the commandment of observing the sabbath to the land. Not surprisingly, Jiordi (my partner) shared with me recently that the Kashia Pomo would burn the land here about every 7 years, another shmita cycle. 

Shmita literally means release in Hebrew. The commandment asks you to let the land go fallow, to let the land rest, to release all debts, to offer forth forgiveness, private land is to be returned to the commons, food that has been stored and perennial harvests are to be redistributed to support those around you. As I prepare for my first sabbatical and for shmita, I think of the arctic ground squirrel in Alaska, the mammal on the planet with the longest hibernation. I think of their rest. I think of how deeply I want to protect their rest. I think of a changing climate and if they will be able to rest as long as their ancestors have rested. And if their rest is compromised how does that disturb our and the land’s rest? 

I think of the rest of the glaciers and how quickly they are being awakened. What does it mean that our elders are being destroyed in this way? To trust that this is enacting extreme spiritual ramifications on the planet and that we must respond like our souls seven generations backwards and forward through time are at stake. I think of dancing before “Lamplugh” Glacier (who I long to know by other names) last year and weeping before the calving together. I want there to be yellow cedars. I want the bears to rest. I want the salmon and their tired bodies to be able to come home with ease after such a long journey. I want my Tlingit, Haida, Tshmishian and Native Alaskan kinfolk to be protected, for their lifeways, culture, land, memory and wellbeing to be protected. 

Can our grieving mobilize the clarity to protect the bioregions who hold us? Can shmita and sabbath renew a radical cosmology within us for mutual aid? Can we extend the land and ourselves sabbath? Can I trust that caring for my watershed in Kashia Pomo territory is the same land as the Tongass? Can I trust offering myself sabbath gives me the attention to show up in right relationship with the land? I am holding these questions with me into this next year. When this is published, the sabbath year will have ended. My prayer in writing this is that by next year, the molecular rearrangements Alaska made in me, allow me to release my complicity with hyper-capitalism, extraction, and living out of right relationship with the earth. May I be devoted to offering the earth sabbath. May the Tongass’ sabbath be protected. Asé.

Words by Debbie S. Miller

Photo: Heart Lake. Credit: Amy Li.

“I am never alone in this wild forest, this forest of elders, this forest of eyes.”  

So wrote Richard (Nels) Nelson in the Island Within, a reflection of his deep relationship with the forest. Through Koyukon teachings, Nels believed that trees had a spiritual power and he felt their presence and wisdom. He was bound to the forest through what he described as a “covenant of mutual regard and responsibility.”

As we defend the Tongass National Forest from road building and industrial clearcutting, Nels’ powerful words inspire us along with his exuberance, joy and enthusiasm for all that is wild in nature.

The Thimbleberry Lake Trail was a favorite for Nels. He walked the familiar loop past Heart Lake, down to Silver Bay, hundreds of times. On many occasions, he recorded the voices of songbirds in the forest and thickets. He loved pausing to listen for new voices, like the Tennessee warbler that we heard in July of 2019.  That was a first, and he was ecstatic!

One quiet spot on Thimbleberry Lake always drew Nels because it was a little off the main trail and a great place to listen for Lincoln sparrows and other nesting birds in the spring. Cradled by the forest and mountains, the resonance on this sheltered lake can be extraordinary, from the reverberating calls of ravens and eagles, to the spiraling voice of a Swainson’s thrush. This was a perfect place to listen.

Photo: Carpenter and wood craftsman Zach LaPerriere sawing pieces of cedar for the bench. Credit: Lione Clare.

Thanks to the artistry of wood craftsman Zach LaPerriere, there is now a memorial bench at this Listening Place to remember Nels. In September, Zach found the perfect fallen yellow cedar tree near Heart Lake. In counting the growth rings, this well-seasoned beautiful tree was at least 640 years old, born during the Bubonic Plague. With great care, Zach cut the planks and Katie Riley and Amy Li helped haul the wood to the rowboat and they paddled the heavy load to the dock. This was not an easy task!  Several weeks later, the bench project was complete. Zach reflected, “Using wood in the right way doesn’t get much more sustainable than this project: we used a dead tree that came from just over the hill from where this bench sits, we cut the wood on site, we packed it out by hand, and we brought it right back to here as a finished product.”

On October 29, members of SCS’s Community Conservation Corp spent the day preparing the Listening Place site and improving the Thimbleberry Trail. While it was a chilly, autumn day, not a raindrop fell, and the crew was in good company with several eagles bathing at the lake, kingfishers rattling above the surface and ravens flying overhead, their calls echoing. Some of Nels’ many friends stopped by to watch the progress, and share some cookies and hot chocolate.

Zach is a master woodworker. He impregnated rods in the bench to prevent decay, and he built a hefty base with cement footings so that this cedar bench will stand the test of time, just like Nels’ legacy. He also inset a bronze plaque with a quote from Island Within: “It is the ancient wisdom of birds that battles are best fought with song.”

This was a favorite quote relating to the music of birds and peace.

Photos L-R: Andrew Thoms and Community Conservation Corps prepare site, engraving on 'The Listening Place' bench, photo of the bench installed. Credit: Lione Clare.

Just after Zach finished the final touches, something magical happened. A beautiful rainbow started to form, arching above the lake. Zach, Andrew Thoms and I all felt Nels’ presence, as though he was smiling through this brilliant rainbow.

Zach’s mother, Connie, put it best the next day. She visited the Listening Place and saw the wonderful bench that her son had crafted. When we talked about the magical rainbow, she added  “…and Nels was the treasure at the end of the rainbow.”

Nels thrived on sharing the world of nature with everyone he knew, and with strangers he met along the way. The Listening Place and memorial bench gives all of us a chance to pause, reflect and listen. With deep listening, we can better appreciate our forest world and be inspired to protect the wilderness that Nels so cherished.

Photo: Zach LaPerriere and Andrew Thoms look out upon the rainbow over Thimbleberry Lake from 'The Listening Place.' Credit: Debbie S. Miller.

This project happened because of the Living Wilderness Fund and the donors who graciously honored Nels’ legacy through financial contribution. We honor legacy of Richard Nelson through the Living Wilderness Fund. Gifts can be made to SCS in memory of Richard Nelson here.

Photo by Molly LeeBove.

Written by Stephanie Hewett

Last summer, SCS hosted artists at the Phonograph Creek property left to us by Eric and Pam Bealer. The intention of this project was to connect artists to the Tongass who hadn’t experienced it before, as well as inspire them to create art from their experiences, continuing the Bealers’ artistic legacy drawing from Southeast Alaska. These words were written by Stephanie Hewett, an artist and dancer who joined us on this retreat, as she reflected upon her time in the Tongass.

A rare sunny day welcomed us at the edge of summer. Our first attempt at landing in Phonograph just a day before was thwarted by wild winds and lack of visibility. We were denied. Yet on our second try we peacefully landed on the beach, in our newly purchased xtratufs, feeling tricked from the stark contrast between both seaplane journeys. We smiled our way into Pam and Eric’s house, still so amused and grateful to have arrived in one piece. Against a calm wind the sun ushered us out into this new terrain full of mystery and deep beauty.

Our first day working with the land heightened my senses in new and exciting ways. I was taught not to fear the neighboring bears, but to understand their patterns in relation to time. In having to train my eyes to see them, I saw so

much more of my surroundings. The face that appeared in the mountain across the water reinforced the sacredness of the land. I perceived the face as a Tlingit ancestor welcoming me as a visitor. I felt affirmed in my being there. Before navigating the space through an intentional movement exploration I felt called to remove my shoes. The ground was cold yet welcoming. With each step I felt as though I could fully see all of the life beneath me. I could feel the movement not just in my body, but in the land. I rooted myself in the feeling of this soft soil beneath my bare feet, and was reminded to give thanks and deep praise before I am back to stepping on city gravel.

Days later, momma appeared in full force. Her mist became specks on my glasses and even though she began to cloud my vision I could still feel her presence. I couldn’t help but think about what beings lay beneath. I remember the salmon we met in Juneau before Phonograph. A few wedged into the earth yet still alive through movement. I observed a marathon with moments of sprints. A final lunge forced into a slow, committed death, knowing the goal is to birth new life.

Photo by Andrew Thoms.

Written by Heather Bauscher

Last summer we were fortunate to host some very special guests at the Phonograph Creek property bequeathed to us by Eric and Pam Bealer two years ago. The homestead at Phonograph Creek is located 3.5 miles outside of Pelican, Alaska and is accessible only by boat or float plane. We are honored to have the responsibility of putting this place to use while stewarding the lands and waters of the surrounding Wilderness. Our intention is to not only connect people to the majesty of the Tongass but also to inspire their creativity. We hope to find diverse and compelling ways to share these artistic manifestations and engage new audiences as we continue widening our circle. This work is a prayer that the transformative power of the Wilderness can be shared and ripple outward to inspire others to feel compelled to protect this place. Part of the power of Eric’s artwork was to do just that. So  it is appropriate to continue his legacy this way, to do work for the West Chichagof Wilderness in the heart of the Tongass National Forest, the home of Eric and Pam, and to “protect this place they so loved.”

Many people have helped us prepare the property for use in sharing the magic and majesty of this beautiful spot. The house has rustic charm and a character that can only be attributed to Eric’s unique artistic style and aesthetic. It is set back in a field off of a point that sits alongside the mouth of Phonograph Creek and across from the sentinel of mountains that line Lisianski Inlet. We wish to utilize this site to provide a place where people can experience Wilderness in different ways. Although there is more work to be done, we were able to host our first guests there this summer.

The collaborators who took part in this pilot creative retreat were chosen for their interest in the experience of the West Chichagof Wilderness and their desire to help amplify the need for action given the recent threats to the Tongass and the repeal of the Roadless Rule. We were given an opportunity to partner with Ayana Young of For the Wild who has shown interest in this project, the Bealer’s story, and has supported Tongass advocacy in the past. At her suggestion we invited Brontë Velez of Lead to Life. Bronte is a black/Latinx social justice activist, artist, poet, dancer, and creatrix. Brontë also brought their partner Jiordi Rosales, a cellist, composer, and lutherie. Jordi is part of the Emergence Project and Steal A Way; a ritual learning-journey fellowship organized by Jiordi and Bronte collaboratively. To compliment the music and spoken word, Stephanie Hewett, a dancer from New York City, also joined them. For the Wild’s production team included Molly Leebove, photographer and videographer, and Jade Begay, photographer and writer of NDN collective.

Photo by Heather Bauscher.

From Juneau they took a float plane to Lisianski Inlet and began almost a week of immersion at Phonograph Creek. We were blessed during those peaceful beautiful days: it felt like the only week of sunshine this summer! With help and support from Bagheera Sailing and S/V Snowdragon II, we departed by sailboat and traveled through the open ocean, and the scattered islands and waterways of the Tongass. We slowly worked our way back to Sitka exploring various bays and learning about karst terrain and the differences between an Old-growth forest and a clearcut that was never thinned.

We also took a detour to Glacier Bay to witness the impacts of climate change. Much like the tradition of Chuck and Alice Johnstone and Jack Calvin, our goal was to immerse our guests in the wilds and the waters of the Tongass to show them what it means to deeply experience this place (and then send them back home as activist ambassadors!). Throughout the trip this dynamic collection of individuals used art, music, movement, ritual, and spoken word to lean into complex issues around the history of the Environmental Movement and Wilderness Stewardship. These artists have helped us begin to dig deeper and connect with new audiences, while expanding our network of advocates for the protection of our ancestral forests.

Upon their emergence from the wilderness of West Chichagof, news that the Final Environmental Impact Statement (FEIS) and decision to remove protections on the Tongass was announced. The group was so moved by their recent experience they immediately mobilized to spread the word on social media, posting videos and even creating a mini film to inspire and connect people to the Tongass. They included a link to our comment tool and we had more than 100 new action takers practically overnight. Post production on the various multimedia pieces of the creative retreat will continue through the winter and likely will be released next year in 2021.

Screenshot from video from For.The.Wild. Watch the video here.

The overall experience of the few weeks we spent together in the Wilderness was life changing and spirit cleansing for all involved. To observe our guest’s awe as they moved through these ancestral forests, as they stood before these elder trees, as they began to comprehend the scale of these great mountains and glaciers, and as they grappled with the magnitude of our human impact was so incredibly moving. These moments of sharing are so deeply meaningful and important. There is a deep connection that is formed through the experience of a wild untamed place. We need to continue to find ways to immerse people in the Tongass, in order to open up new doorways and new relationships, to widen our circles and expand our network of advocates for fish habitat and forest conservation.

To pull this off during the COVID pandemic was no easy feat and I wish to express tremendous gratitude to all who helped move this project along. Thank you to all who have provided support in any stage of maintaining this property, to all those who helped organize this creative retreat, and to support the various Wilderness Monitoring trips. Thank you to Brenda Berry as the very first pilot artist! Thank you to all who helped with the physical work on the property and to all who helped with any leg of transportation of people or goods for these projects. To all of the folks in and around Pelican or connected to the Bealers, we will never be able to express how grateful we have been for your help and your support throughout this journey. It is with gratitude we will present these artistic manifestations as offering and prayer that this forest will be protected and the Wilderness will always remain.

Photo by Molly LeeBove.

Read 'Reflections from the Tongass,' written by Stephanie Hewett about her time on this trip here.

Alice Johnstone, one of our founders, remains an inspiring leader of our community and ardent conservationist. As Women’s History Month is drawing to a close, we want to highlight the important work that Alice has done for the community of Sitka. She and her husband Chuck joined forces with other Sitkans to create the Sitka Conservation Society in 1967, in an attempt to stop the clearcut logging that was destroying the forests they loved. Their dream was to get West Chichagof designated as a wilderness area before the mill could turn all of the trees to pulp. In 1980 after 13 years of pouring all their energy into this dream, it was realized and the West-Chichagof Yakobi Wilderness was created. 

As we have learned more each day and watched the impacts and spread of COVID-19, it has become apparent that we all need to take action now to protect our communities. 

We have made the difficult decision to postpone the Celebration of Life for Richard Nelson.

We are planning to reschedule, but are waiting to evaluate how the situation changes before we set dates. We will keep you updated as soon as we have plans. We all were looking forward to celebrating and remembering Nels, but we believe that he would not want anyone to compromise community health or well-being. 

In the midst of this stressful moment for human society, life is jubilantly returning to Sitka Sound. Humpback whales are playing in Silver Bay and young sea lions can be spotted along the shoreline. We're fully in herring weather, as Nels described in an Encounters episode:

It's a spring afternoon, one of those days when the weather makes itself a character in every story. It’s clear right now with sunshine pouring down but just through a blue hole in the clouds. There are squalls running around—sometimes rain, sometimes snow, sometimes hail, sometimes blustery winds.

In this season we are constantly reminded of Nels' joy and spark for life, as well as his understanding that we are not separate from the natural world but rather a part of it like every other creature. We are striving to approach every day with the kindness he always demonstrated, despite the challenges we face.

If you have any questions, please email Ellie at [email protected]. For the next few weeks, the Sitka Conservation Society will be working remotely as much as possible to attempt to slow the spread of the virus. Please contact us through email rather than phone calls. 

Photo by Lione Clare Photography

1941–2019

The inspiration, guidance, wisdom, and “ways of seeing” that you have given us will live on forever.

Long-time Sitka Conservation Society Board Emeritus Richard “Nels” Nelson passed away on November 4th, 2019. Nels served on our board of directors for close to 40 years, and he has enormously influenced our organization.

Photo by Ben Hamilton.

Eric and Pam Bealer transcended their earthly bodies in September of 2018.  They chose to leave a legacy gift for Wilderness and left their estate to the Sitka Conservation Society’s Living Wilderness Fund. The Sitka Conservation Society considers this a great honor and we are humbled by their gift. We will honor their love of the wilderness through the stewardship of these spectacular areas of intact ecosystems and by working to protect West Chichagof–Yakobi Wilderness so that future generations may continue to be as inspired by this remarkable place as Eric and Pam were.

Pam and Eric with some of their beloved animals

1960-2018

Eric and Pam Bealer transcended their earthly bodies in September of 2018. They chose to leave a legacy gift for Wilderness and left their estate to the Sitka Conservation Society’s Living Wilderness Fund. The Sitka Conservation Society considers this a great honor and we are humbled by their gift. We will honor their love of the wilderness through the stewardship of these spectacular areas of intact ecosystems and by working to protect West Chichagof–Yakobi Wilderness so that future generations may continue to be as inspired by this remarkable place as Eric and Pam were.

Pam and Eric with some of their beloved animals

Eric and Pam lived surrounded by the Tongass National Forest. They fell in love with the wild, remote, rugged coastline of southeast Alaska and decided to make a home in the middle of the West Chichagof–Yakobi Wilderness, in a bay daunting to access for even experienced locals. It is a magical place, often shrouded in mists where the ocean meets the edges of temperate rainforest. Both talented artists, they were fed, warmed, and inspired by the natural world of the Tongass.

The West Chichagof-Yakobi Wilderness

Art in all they did

In addition to being a talented wood engraver, Eric was an expert carpenter, boat builder, and woodworker. Pam was a fiber artist and spun wool from her own sheep, utilized natural dyes, and incorporated hair and fur from horses and dogs into her yarn tapestries and weavings. In their home in the West Chichagof–Yakobi Wilderness, Eric and Pam built a life that was as self-reliant and connected to the land as possible; they raised chickens and turkeys, cultivated their own food, and built their house and much of their furniture from logs that washed up on the beaches. 

The connection that Eric had with the Tongass is seen through his beautiful artwork. He looked closely, noticed the finer details, and appreciated and included all facets of the forest ecosystem equally for their inherent beauty. If you look closely at the details of his work, you will see the faces of forest spirits and references to Mother Earth, often resembling his dear wife, Pam. 

Eric Bealer making prints

Letting Go by Eric Bealer

Surge Bay Puffins by Eric Bealer

Swan Song by Eric Bealer

West Chichagof Wilderness provided a home and inspiration for Eric and Pam. The inspiration that this marvelous landscape creates is also the reason that people originally united to form the Sitka Conservation Society in 1967.  The area was scheduled to be clearcut by the pulp mills, but the dedicated citizen activists who formed as the Sitka Conservation Society fought to save it from this fate. After 13 years of advocacy, the West Chichagof–Yakobi Wilderness area was designated by Congress. 

Eric and Pam were as connected to each other as they were to the West Chichagof–Yakobi Wilderness. The legacy they chose to leave behind is one of protection and honor for these lands. The Bealer's living-with-the-land and wilderness values are shared by the Sitka Conservation Society and the Living Wilderness Fund and it is our honor to uphold this legacy and love of sacred wild places.

Sea Pony Farm sunset

Pam and Eric Bealer at an art opening for one of Eric's many Southeast Alaska gallery shows

We are incredibly grateful for Eric and Pam’s gift to our Living Wilderness Fund, and for how beautifully they expressed their shared love of West Chichagof and deep connection to nature through their art, their inspirational partnership, and the way they manifested their values through the ways they lived their lives. We are honored that Pam and Eric believed in our work so deeply that they entrusted their legacy to us. May we continue to be inspired and transformed by Eric and Pam’s love for the forest, their legacy of advocacy for the wilderness of southeast Alaska, and by the art they left behind for us to remember. 

If you wish to make a donation to the Living Wilderness Fund in memory of Eric and Pam Bealer, or work with us to honor their legacy, please click here or call us at 907-747-7509.