The Wrangell sentinel., 1949-10-14
Along CannerY
Row
BY GRACE o. MAzERIs

Pastel, water colors, nor pure
oils could not do justice to the
scenery along Canneyr Row this
morning. For sheer beauty, artists
have dipped deep into the caldrons
and yet to my novitiate eyes
have not seen the like of color of
early morning in Wrangell. Moon
over island and water. seagulls
wtnging full span with all lights
and shades of dawn intermingle in
the flight of color and motion.
pause and am grateful to the Great
| Am from which flows this emo
ton of color, the sensitivity OF
thought, of sense of color. To all
the poetry of the great and those
of humber thought who strive to
express themselves I bow in meek
submission that l am allowed this
privilege of worship at the shrine
of early morn. l am a worker ana
am paid for my hire but l cannot
collect from man the Godgiven
thoughts given me through beauty,
nor would l, for this is personal
affair between me and the Maker
of Beauty.
Inside the cannery it is warm
and there is action and l lose the
spell of morning and greet my fell
lows who are no doubt coming out
of the thralls of morning emotions
even as l. We are now about the
business of the day, viz, picking
shrimp, gossiping, singing and
swapping small talk. Busy fingers
fly.
The neighbors Wigg give me the
first chuckle with the story of the
alarm clocks. 1t seems that with
five Wigs there are five alarm
clocks, and that no one oversleeps
and that no one bothers the other
fellow. Each sets his own clock to
his own time. So at 6 a. m. Mama
Wigg just lets her alarm wear its
self out In case Papa Wigg hasn't
set his clock. But he usually has
and no sooner does Mama wigs
clock stop ringing than Papa's
clock takes up the morning ri iF,
and is his wears down the brothers
Wigg know that it is now z O'Clock
and in case sister Bertha has for
gotten to wind up the night before
they just let their clock ring on.
Bertha is right there on the ring
and merrily rings out the last OF
the alarms The Wigs are up and
at 'em. An alarming family
Moose stories galore but nary a
steak have 1 sunk my teeth into
as yet. Jewel Binkley tells me that
she was just too tired to go up the
river as she had planned. Jewel
had busy time this summer as
we all know, and some gal she is
to do the tremendous task of run
ming the Jewel Line such a thor
ough manner. Anyway, husband
Loyal got the moose and It's all
put away for the now Loyal mas
gone south in the gas boat but will
be back SOON Bill Binkley Will
go out on the Wednesday plane for
Seattle where he will work this
winter.
October 10 We sing happy
birthday to Boss Johnnie Sivertsen.
Mrs. Hulom of Point Baker ana
her two daughters are visiting here
while Papa Carl with Herbert
Zieskie and Delmar Ramp, went up
the river for a moose. They got a
big one-1, 900 pounds. 1t dressed
out at 500 pounds. These Point
Baker boys are so happy about
their moose they went back up to
get a goat they saw on the way
out. Don't press your luck too hard
there, boys.
Someone asked me where Can,
merry Row was and where it began
and ended. Like the geography says
of the Equator, its an imaginary
line 1t begins in our alarm clocks
and continues in our fingers and
hearts and heads. 1t is the canne"y
workers of Wrangell their families
and friends. 1t is the mainstay anf
backbone OF Wrangell
Yours Truly has had a shifting
cold and someone told me to eat {
little garlic. did But there is NJ