My Eskimo Family 26 (continued from November 16)

At 17 years of age I was on my way to Bemidji, Minnesota to meet my grandmother, Mini and grandfather, John from Nome, Alaska. Mini, I learned on the trip to meet her, was my father's birth mother who, for some reason, didn't raise him. Not until some years later, while living with my aunt Maggie, did I get a brief outline of the story of his family, my relatives, and who was who.

Dad was Mini's first child born out of wedlock. John was most likely his father, but because she wasn't married, or some other reason she never disclosed, she gave the baby, my father, to her married sister, Maggie Burgh (not to be confused by my Aunt Maggie, dad's sister). Maggie was married to Henry Burgh. A white guy from the lower 48 who had run to Nome to escape prosecution for embezzling with the railroad. Henry was really Henry Gerberg but changed his name to hide from the law. He became the owner of the Nevada Bar on Front Street Nome and eventually became mayor and later an Alaska District Representative. He was a well respected man but at some point lost some of that respect when he married Mini's sister, Maggie, a half-breed Eskimo. Eskimos were considered "the dogs" of the community in the early years of the 20th century. Henry's half-brother, Harry Gerberg, migrated to Nome looking for his brother but Harry never revealed Henry's true identity. Henry was my father's adopted father. So, in following all of that confusion, conspiracy and secrets, I'm actually not only a Burgh, but a Gerberg-Fagerstrom-Curran (Mini's maiden name--the name she had when giving birth to my father).

Dad, it turns out, wasn't the only child of Mini's farmed out for someone else to raise. One winter day way back when, Mini and John (the Fagerstrom's) packed up their 7 or so kids in a dog sled and mushed west across Golovin Bay and up the coast to Solomon to visit Mini's dad, Old Man Pete Curran. He ran the grocery at Saftey (the building still stands today) with his second Eskimo wife, Pauline and their two girls. Mini and her siblings, Margie and Young Pete, were not too fond of Pauline and her girls--Mini's  half sisters.

Old Man Pete had the Nome-Unalakleet mail contract. He delivered mail by dog team which took him about two weeks of travel to make the round trip. When his first Eskimo wife, Dora; Mini and sibling's mother (my great-grandmother), died, Pete brought home from Unalakleet to Saftey, Pauline and his two daughters by her. It appears he had two wives and family at both ends of his mail run. Mini, therefore, was not all that fond of her step-mother, Pauline, and her newly acquired half-sisters. Nonetheless, she took a long sled ride one winter with her family to visit her father and new-er family at Saftey.

After the visit, sleds packed and dogs ready to haul them back to Golovin, Mini went to retrieve her small daughter, Maggie (my aunt). Pete, however had hidden her in a closet and refused to give her back. Mini, he said, had plenty of kids and he wanted cute little Maggie for himself. Consequently Maggie called her step-grandma, Pauline, her mama and her step-aunts, her sisters.
And Dad, who was raised by his aunt, called her mama, and his eventual cousins (Margie and "Steamboat") his sisters.

This account and other family twists and turns were not known to me the first time I met my grandmother, Mini, in Bemidji when I was 17 years old.

(to be continued) copyright 2008 Tamara Ann Burgh, all right reserved

Below: Me at 17 visiting my grandfather, John, for the first time in Bemidji

SEE PICTURES OF THE THE FOLKS MENTIONED ABOVE HERE

SEE PICTURES OF GOLOVIN POSTED BY MARTIN L. OLSON SCHOOL BLOG HERE

Comments

[Jim]

Stumbled across your blog - you've done a lot of good work there with the history of your family. Great photos - haven't yet read through it all. Love your art too - very nice work.

I lived in Golovin for about a year back sometime around 1993 working for the housing authority - hanging out a bit with some Amaroks. I lived in the church rectory and some people took to calling me preacher. Nice village.

cheers, Jim