I spent this past week with a couple of my heroes. Both are Alaskan women who make it clear that being an Alaskan woman means being independent, strong, inquisitive and intellectually restless until the day you die.
Charlotte, my friend in Homer, is closing in on 90 years old. She and I nursed together in Barrow. Then she moved to a cabin in Homer where she had to ski to her mailbox long after the age at which I can barely walk to mine. As her body aged and betrayed her with its limitations, it looked as though she might