Frontiersman reporter
Many of Bill Hecker's memories are preserved in an old photo album,
held down on brittle paper pages. The faded black-and-white photographs
are filled with images of the past— Model-T Fords, World War II planes
and youthful faces.
"Eddie Barge," Bill said, pointing to a faded photograph of a young
man wearing an Army uniform. Barge had served with Bill on the
Aleutian Islands. But while Barge escaped Japanese bombings, the years
finally caught him.
"He died fairly recently—82 years old," Bill said. "He only died,
oh, a month ago or so."
The 78-year-old man and his wife, Bergie, have lived on their original
Matanuska farm on Palmer Fishhook Road since the 1940s. They can still
see the old main house and barn across the street, sold years ago to
another family. The Heckers live in what was once a milking parlor.
During the past decades, renovations and additions have changed the
small, concrete building into a cozy home.
Alaska became home to a 20-year-old Bill Hecker in 1938. His aunt's
family had moved to the Valley the year, before, 'and Bill's parents
would follow later. He said he cannot recall the exact reasons for
moving north from his home state of Oregon.
"Something new I guess ... to see the world," Bill said. "I walked
from warm, rainy weather into cold snow."
He arrived in early spring to a town not much older than himself, one
that would later become the state's largest city.
"It wasn't much of a town at all, then, Bill said of Anchorage. He
said the streets were still gravel, with only a few strips of pavement
serving as sidewalks. The shops and homes were all woodframe buildings,
except for the impressive, concrete Federal Building.
And it was this rustic nature of Alaska that left a lasting impression
on Bill's wife.
It was like going back in time 100 years," Bergie recalled. "There
were no amenities." She said many homes were without electricity,
phones or running water. Bergie had been working in Europe with the
Red Cross and coming from Paris in the early 1940s, Bergie encountered
a very different world in Alaska's Matanuska Colony.
But she had always dreamed of coming to the Last Frontier. And it was
here where she met her future husband.
" He was just back from the Army," Bergie said of her husband. Bill
had served four years as an Army engineer during World War II.
"We met at a dance in the old movie theater," Bergie recalled. Today,
the downtown Palmer theater is now encased in a larger and much flashier
Gold Miner's Hotel.
In 1946, the young couple was married. Within a few years, the
Heckers had bought the family farm after Bill's father died in 1948.
"I guess I just worked into it after the war," Bill said of farming
. And hard work it was. With three daughters, Bill expected to do most
of the farming on his own. But one daughter turned out to be a pleasant
surprise.
"Patricia helped me the most" Bill said. "She learned how to milk the
cows and feed and take care of the animals." With some help from
Patricia, Bill said he was able to run the farm without much outside
help. The other two daughters, Barbara and Angela, assisted their
mother with the inside chores.
Bill said winters were the most difficult for farmers, trying to get
fresh water and feed out to the cows while the wind and snow howled
through the Valley.
"There were a good many times I wished I was back in Oregon, Bill
admitted. "But we never had enough money to go anywhere else," he
added with a chuckle.
He said dairy farms, like other farms, are rarely big moneymakers.
"In order to make a living, you have to buy more cows," Bill said.
More cows require more buildings and more feed. The farmer then has
to buy more land and more equipment, which costs more money. And in
an attempt to pay off the loans for land and equipment, the farmer
then buys more cows.
"It's a never-ending thing," Bill said.
"Farmers never made anything," his wife agreed. "Everything we ever
made went right back into the farm."
In the late '70s, Bill began selling off some of he dairy cows to slow
ly ease out of the demanding business.
I didn't miss them one bit," he said of the dairy cows.
While the Heckers encountered many hardships along with other
Matanuska Colonists, they recalled many pleasant memories as well. "I
don't think I led a very exciting life," Bill said. "But everybody
knew how to have a good time." He pointed to a photograph of his mother
as a young woman. She was a blur of movement and laughter as several
small children bombarded her with fluffy snow.
Other photographs showed a young couple relaxing in a green field,
while sunlight glittered off their smiles.
Bill recalled many evening dances in town, summer picnics in the
mountains add successful fishing trips.
"We found more time to do those things back then," Bill said. "We
had a lot of fun ... I guess you take it where you can get it." The
78-year-old man cracked a small grin.
"When I was young, I liked it here a lot more than I do now," Bergie
said. She said Alaska is for the strong-bodied and brave-spirited.
But as people age, many begin yearning for warm winters without snowy
roads and windy yards.
And as the Heckers have grown older over the years, the world
around them has changed dramatically.
"It doesn't seem like the same place at all," Bill said.
"As soon as they built McDonalds, it all started to change," Bergie
agreed. "We used to go the post office and know everyone there. Most
of them were even related to you."
The elderly couple said they see few familiar faces anymore, however.
"This is a wonderful place for younger people ... but it's not the
best place for retired people," Bergie said. For the past few years,
the Heckers have headed south in their motorhome to visit with relatives
and enjoy sunny skies during the heart of winter.
However, Bill decided he was not comfortable driving the large vehicle
along the Alaska Highway this year. The couple has spent these past
few months in their Palmer home. Outside, snow drifts against their
screen door.
"It's been a long winter this year," Bergie said. But inside their
warm milk parlor, the couple sat in their plush chairs beneath a
skylight and shared their memories. Bright rays of sunshine cast a
glow to the room as Bergie and Bill flipped through piles of black
and white photographs.
By EOWYN LeMAY IVEY