It did not seem possible to me this morning that I’d go from Nome to Elim and back in a single day, in the process taking two small airplane flights. But I did this and made it back to Nome before dark.

This morning, at the Bering Air airport, a school team of cross country skiers were on their way to Unalakleet where they’d participate in a ski meet. Their gear, skis, and boots, and backpacks, and suitcases, were piled in the center of the room. In the thick of it all was Angela, the school secretary, who was giving her college-aged daughters an assist in getting the children situated prior to their flight.

I hung out by the window and watched the crew prepare the Caravan airplanes for their daily flights. I noted that there were no little planes, which meant that I too would be flying on a Caravan, a type of plane that I’m familiar with and feel comfortable in as a passenger. Never mind that it was this type of plane, one going from Unalakleet to Nome, that a month ago crashed on the return trip.

The flights from Nome to Elim and back were uneventful. The sky was sunny. It was a windless day. There was no turbulence either way. More views of snow-covered peaks, and as well, the distant Bering Sea.

Elim reminded me of Mountain Village. Scattered here and there were one story houses, which were also at the base of a hill, although this hill did not go as far up as the one in Mountain Village. And of course, here the sun was shining.

I was met at the airfield by two school maintenance men, one of whom was a Native and the other who was white. They both seemed to me to be in their late thirties, early forties. They took me directly to the school where I was escorted into the school library. The school principal appeared a short while later, introduced herself and disappeared. I was left alone in the library for an hour.

BLBP books had been laid out on tables. I straightened the books in the school bookcases and put some that were in boxes on the empty spaces.

No one offered to give me a school tour. No one offered me lunch. I became very thirsty. The one saving grace was that the library had big windows, and the sun was shining brightly.

The principal returned and told me that seven groups of students would be coming in and getting books. She further explained that the students would be given Bingo sheets with book related questions – they were to do a scavenger hunt of sorts. I looked the sheet she gave me over. Some directives: find a book with a green cover. Find a book with a copyright with your age. Find a book with a one-word cover. Etc.

The children, some groups with teachers in tow, began coming into the room and both picking out books and filling out their Bingo Sheets. The younger students were more adept than the older students, which struck me as strange. I mentioned this to a person who ultimately was in charge, the maintenance man – he said that, indeed, the older children were less literate than their younger peers.

The maintenance man told the students they had to take five books, which struck me as strange. A student verified the lack of appreciation for the books by remarking that they might be used for fire starter.

Before I knew it, it was time to catch my return flight to Nome. A maintenance man took me to the airstrip and within minutes I was on the outgoing Caravan. I suspect that if I’d spent more time in Elim, that I would have made more book related inroads with the teachers.

Next: 86. 3/28/25: Breakup Far and Wide