The Tall Tale Was Not So Tall, or Even a Tale after All
(Adak, Alaska) Chances are that if you have been in Adak for a week, you have heard Harrison Thornton’s (81) tale, and if you have been here for the last 50 years, you know it by heart. In fact, many storytellers have been peddling his tale to magazines and cruise line tourists for decades. When people ask him why he does not stop people from making money for his story, he normally responds in classic Thornton fashion, "My reward will be greater than all the gold in Alaska." Thornton has become so entrenched in his tale that he never breaks character, or so we thought. His story has become our story, and although we never believed it, we cherished it. After Saturday night, however, we not only cherish and believe it, but we are also a little saddened by it.
Harrison Thornton was born in Chicago, Illinois, on July 13, 1939. His father, Jack Thornton, enlisted in the United States Marine Corps after the attack on Pearl Harbor and died in combat during the Guadalcanal Campaign in 1942 at the age of 21. Harrison’s mother, Katie, never got over the death of her husband, and turned to alcohol, leaving Harrison to raise himself. In 1953 Katie died of acute alcohol poisoning, and Harrison was sent to Sunlight Gardener’s School for Boys.
Harrison spent less than 3 months in school before running away. Harrison said, “I couldn’t stand it there, too many people. I was practically alone my whole life. I never knew my dad, and my mom was never really there.” He said that neighbors would bring over food and would check on him, but that there was no love in the house. He went on, “My mom would just sit there drinking some rotgut whiskey or cheap wine, and stare at their wedding picture she kept clutched in her hand.” Harrison finished with a sly smile, “I guess we are a lot alike; I’ve been clutching onto a memory for the last 50 years; the only difference is I never became an alcoholic.”
After running away from the school for boys, Harrison rode the rails like many men have done in the middle of the 20th century. He would spend the next 4 years going from New York to Florida to California and points in between. He would work on farms picking fruit, mop tar on rooftops, or every now and then dig ditches when he would get picked up for vagrancy.
While living in a YMCA in San Francisco in 1957, Harrison read The Call of the Wild and made the decision that would turn him into a local legend. With $150, 3 sets of clothes, and no idea what he was getting himself into, Harrison Thornton headed to Alaska.
When Harrison speaks of those early years his dull blue eyes brighten a shade or two and his gentle voice fills the room with a sweet scent of nostalgia. Those who have heard Harrison tell his tale cannot help but be mesmerized by his words to a point of seeing the world as though a sepia filter has been applied over their eyes. People wait patiently as he talks about his time fishing in the Bering Sea, where he survived many a skirmish with our Comrade neighbors. People wait longer still as he tells about his modest success prospering near Hatcher Pass. While these stories are fun and exciting it is when his adventure takes him across the Brooks Range into the North Slope that people wait to hear.
Sally Cohle (66) explains, "I have heard Harrison tell this story ever since I was a little girl and I have never tired (of) it." Sally goes on, “Even if I am in a rush somewhere, if I hear he is at London’s Bowling Alley telling his story, I will stop everything and go listen.” Sally says this and giggles with a hint of embarrassment.
Not everyone is as fond of the tale as Misses Cohle, however. Alex Jacks (59) has not been a fan of Harrison or his story and even gone to say it is dangerous how Harrison goes on and on. Alex has repeatedly said to anyone who will listen, “How many of our boys have we lost to this nonsense? Inukins? Really? It’s stories we were told as children to scare us to be good. Now we have good young men leaving the island in search of the Inukin village. Those who return, return with nothing but disappointment and maybe some frostbite.” Jacks has been in Anchorage for the last month visiting his mother and has not been available for comment.
Donald Faulk (44) disagrees vehemently saying, “It’s become somewhat of a pilgrimage for us. Sure, we want to find the Inukins, but it’s more than that. We go out there to walk the trail of Mr. Thornton. When we get back, we aren’t filled with disappointment, we are filled with hope. Hope and a belief that anything is possible. And after what we all saw Saturday night, belief has turned to fact.”
When Thornton headed across the Brooks Range in 1969, he was not in search of Inukins or treasure, he says, “I was just searching. For what, I don’t know. I had plenty of gold in the bank. I already had my fair share of adventure on the high seas. It was not family I was looking for in the tundra. I think I really just wanted to get lost so I could find myself.” What Thornton found, was himself in a fairytale.
Thornton spent most of 1969 alone with his pack mule, Buck, in the Tundra. He would venture into town to trade caribou meat for supplies once a month. During one trip into Deadhorse before Christmas, a tradesman urged him to take refuge in the town because of an approaching storm that was predicted to be pretty nasty. Thornton said, “I don’t know why I didn’t stay, to be honest. I didn’t have any need to prove myself to anybody or more importantly myself. I just had an urge to go. So, I did.”
Thornton knew about an abandoned shack a few miles east of Deadhorse, so he hurried there to make it storm ready. He said, “I had to patch a couple spots on the roof with some thatch, cut enough firewood to last 3 weeks or so, and just tried to batten down the hatches, so to speak.”
When Thornton would tell about the storm, children would inch closer to parents and most men would look off into space like a soldier with a thousand-yard stare. Alaskan storms are something we do not take likely, and the way Thornton describes the storm is terrifying. He would say, “The cabin beams would creak and bow in protest as the winds tried desperately to take their prize, me. But even as the beams and the wind played that deadly game of tug-of-war for my life, I heard the howls of the wolves and the cries of a mother.”
Thornton said when he grabbed his rifle and lantern, Buck became very agitated, with eyes bulging and a constant yee hawing. He said he hesitated but could not ignore the cries of the mother. He unbarred the door and left the safety of the cabin. He did not make it 3 steps before the lantern was ripped from his hands. For a moment he thought about returning to the cabin, but again the cries steeled his nerve. When he turned in the direction of the cries, Harrison Thornton saw the Inukins for the first time.
Thornton would say, "If it had been 5 minutes later, I never would have seen them. The snow had only just begun and was only about 6 inches or so. But there was, a dozen of them, about 2 to 3 feet tall, all with spears twice their size. I just stood there in disbelief and watched them. For a moment I forgot about the cold. The mother's cry brought me back from my daze." People would always ask, how did he know it was a mother, and he would always reply, "Any woman can give a good shriek that can rattle the dishes, but only a mother's shriek can rattle the soul."
Thornton said he did not think, only acted as he ran in the same direction of the Inukins. They either did not notice him or simply paid him no mind. He had taken only a handful of steps when he saw the roof of the cabin fly away in several large pieces. He said the Inukins were fast, not as fast as the fairytales, but still very fast. They were making their way up a rocky incline when the attack came.
Thornton would say, “And out of nowhere, three wolves jumped over a ridge and attacked. I skidded to a stop and was filled with amazement and fear. Lots of fear. The Inukins did not skip a beat, their elfish floppy ears stood erect lyke horns, and they went into battle. The wolves snapped their razor-sharp teeth this way and that way, rarely finding their prey. The Inukins fought with a ferocity I had never seen before or since. They would leap onto the wolves back and try to drive their spears into the base of the wolf’s neck before being tossed off. This was something out of a dream, and again the mother's cries brought me back. Ignoring the mayhem around her, she kept trudging up the hill. When another wolf cleared the ridge and was about to attack her, I sprang into action. The wolf no more than opened its mouth and I blew it away with my Winchester. The mother acknowledged me for the first tyme; she turned to me and bowed slightly before heading back up the ridge. I killed three more wolves before I made it to the top. When I got there, I found the mother and wolf in a standoff, with what I found out later to be, the mother’s baby, swaddled and laying on the ground behind the wolf. The mother had a knife that could not have been more than 2 inches long. She did not hesitate as she charged the wolf. I raised my rifle and fired my last round that sent the wolf somersaulting backward. The mother did not slow as she hurdled the dead wolf and scooped up her baby."
Thornton would always stand up tall when he talked about shooting the wolf. He would then say, “Again I was filled with emotion, this tyme of relief and exaltation. But the feeling was soon replaced with fear as I noticed one remaining wolf charging the reconnected mother and child. Moving faster than I have ever moved, I ran towards the Inukin pair and dove on top of them to shield them from the impending attack. Within an instant, my back was on fire as the wolf's claws ripped apart my coat and shredded my skin. I held on to my wards for as long as I could. Then I felt the fangs pierce my neck and I felt my life leaving my body. I was still clutching the Inukin mother and child with all my might, as the world disappeared around me.”
Thornton would say that last part and bow his head for a long pause. As the years go on, the pause has gotten longer. With a beaming smile, he would raise his head and say, "Then I woke up." He would pause again for dramatic effect and let the ahhhs die down before continuing with a bellow, "Surrounded by Inukins!"
This of course would be met with arboreous applause. Thornton stayed with the Inukins for 2 months while he recovered. The Inukin mother, Flora, waited on him deliriously. Thornton learned as much as he could about the mythical creatures, separating fact from fiction. He has stated that Inukins have never stolen a baby and ate it, but they are mischievous, but without malice.
Although he enjoyed his tyme with the Inukins, he knew he could not stay with them. The night before he was to depart, they had a great feast, and was promised a gift. There is always a glint in Thornton's eyes when he gets to this part and he says, "The Inukin Chief, Malacise, quieted everyone down and stood by the great fire in the middle of the clearing. He said, 'We will forever be grateful of the long legs known as Harrison' and all the Inukins cheered, 'And as appreciation, he will receive our next Fragencalily' even louder cheers. I was confused and asked what a Fragencalily was. They all laughed and Malacise pointed into the fire.” Thornton’s eyes would smile bigger than his mouth before he would go on, normally after someone would yell, “What did you see?” “A woman” Thornton would say in his low and gentle voice, “The most beautiful woman in the world.”
Thornton said that they told him as soon as she was born and was of proper human age, she would be delivered to him. Thornton was not without concerns. How could she love me if she never met me? Was but one of his questions. The Inukin chief explained that Fragencalily are only born out of love. The act of love of a human toward an Inukin. Because the Fragencalily are born of love, they only love the one who committed the act. Thornton was told to leave in peace, build a home and wait.
And that is what Harrison Thornton has been doing for the last 50 years, waiting. Waiting and telling his story. Until now.
Saturday night and London’s Bowling Alley was lyke most Saturday nights. It smelled of stale beer and cheap cigars. Laughter and conversation would be momentarily disrupted after the undeniable sound of ten pins exploding for a strike. Thornton was there, quietly observing the carefree fun that is reserved for the young and waited.
At approximately 8p.m. the door opened and the most beautiful woman who has ever stepped foot in Adak Alaska walked into the bowling alley. She was accompanied by a small manlike creature that stood no taller than 3 feet, had a large pointy nose, and long floppy elfish ears. The woman looked at Thornton and gave him a slight bow.