A sigh of relief escaped me when the jet’s wheels slammed onto the Anchorage airstrip. We’d made it. After 30 years of hearing about my dad’s adventures in Alaska, I was traveling to see the place that shaped who he became.
It was here where he panhandled for food, worked in a logging camp, and ultimately hopped on a boat, lying to the captain about his sailing qualifications. He was out at sea before the truth was discovered.
When I turned off airplane mode, my phone lit up with a message from him. He wanted to know where we were headed. I told him we were en route to
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