It’s been more than 70 years since Unalaska came under attack during World War II, but you don’t have to look hard to find the remnants. The community is littered with old gunnery installations, battered Quonset huts and bunkers – some of which are being preserved for posterity.

But there’s history, and then there’s hazard, and the shells and bombs that keep washing up on Unalaska’s shores fall somewhere in between.

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Photo by Unalaska Fire Chief Abner Hoage.

Out on a quiet beach at the edge of the island, Unalaska’s shooting range is where local gun owners go for target practice.

But the team of Army and Air Force munitions experts that have converged on the range aren’t here to practice anything.

They’ve flown in just to examine a mysterious shell that may date back to World War II.

“Let’s go ahead and take a couple minutes and try to get a quick ID,” Air Force Sgt. Luke Mefford said.

He’s the head of the Explosive Ordnance Disposal team at Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson in Anchorage.

The EOD team has come out to Unalaska, Adak and other Aleutian communities over the years to identify and safely destroy leftover munitions from the war.

Usually, these items get picked up beachcombers or fishermen. Even though they’ve have been swimming in salt water for decades, that doesn’t mean these they’re inert.

Army Sgt. Joe Potocki explains:

Potocki: “Some old explosives use, like, nitroglycerin which is highly sensitive. Being so old, not in the state it’s supposed to be in? You mess around with it, it could definitely go off.”

Rosenthal: “That’s scary!”

Potocki: “It is. That’s why we’re around – it’s why we’ve got a job.”

The job that brought them to Unalaska this time was an effort at historical preservation – gone wrong.

The Ounalashka Corporation runs the World War II museum. Their manager, Dave Gregory, says he was out at lunch one day when an employee of a local fish plant dropped off a donation.

“It was about – oh, what – 20 inches long, six inches at the base. And then it kind of tapered down. Kind of a greenish, dirty color I guess,” Gregory said.

Gregory is no stranger to ordnance. He says the museum does like to collect small pieces, to put in its displays. They add some color.

Photo by Unalaska Fire Chief Abner Hoage.

This shell was different, though. It was heavier and bigger than anything Gregory had seen, it didn’t seem like a good thing to keep around. So he called his friends at public safety. They took custody of the shell, and contacted the EOD team for disposal.

In Unalaska, the team is coping with miserable weather. They take turns snapping photos on the windy, snowy beach. One by one, they dart into a running fire truck for warmth while they consult munitions manuals.

Finally, Sgt. Mefford walks up. They have an ID.

“It’s an artillery round, more than likely fired from a naval ship out in the water somewhere,” Mefford said. “Either for target practice, depending on the exact time period, it may have been used against enemy actions.”

Mefford says he can’t share any more information than that, because the rest is classified.

“I can’t really give you specifics on it, just due to our disclosure rules on it,” he said.

The team wastes no time setting up the blast site.

“Are we gonna have enough antenna to get up on top of this, Scotty?,” Mefford asked.

“Yeah we should, because those caps,” Scott Rice, from the U.S. Air Force, said.

They pack the shell in a hole, and cover it with about 6 pounds of C4, a plastic explosive. They poke in some blasting caps, which are tuned into a remote control.

Once it’s set up, we’re directed to take cover several hundred yards away, behind two gravel berms. We’re waiting for the remote control to warm up, when the team asks me if I want to be the one to set off the explosives.

Rosenthal: “Can I?”

Rice: “Yeah, absolutely! It’ll be ready to go in about 30 seconds.”

Mefford: “We’re not doing it yet. We’re gonna let him set his camera up and then give him the go-ahead.”

While we wait for fire chief Abner Hoage to set up his video camera, I get some basic instructions.

Rice: “Alright, so when we get ready to fire this thing, under this cover is one fire button. You just get ready to press and hold one of them, and then press and hold the other. There will be a two second delay and the shot will go off.”

Potocki: “Do you want to tell her what she has to yell?”

Rice: “Ha, oh yeah. Before you set that off, you have to yell fire in the hole three times as loud as you can. Once forward, once off to your left, once off to your right.”

Air Force Sgt. Scott Rice and I trade. He takes my microphone and recorder, and I take his remote detonator.

Without further ado:

Rosenthal: “FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE HOLE.”

Rice: “Hold it up nice and high! There you go.”

BLAST

Rosenthal: “Oh whoa! That is a giant plume of smoke. Whoa. That’s a rush.”

Bits of shrapnel rain through the air – some of them even flying past the berms, carried by the high winds.

Once the dust settles, the team tells me they like to let visitors detonate the explosives when they’re working in the field.

Rosenthal: “Well, thanks for letting me do that, it was really fun.”

Rice: “Alright, we’re good to go. We can go and check it out.”

All that’s left of the shell, is a 4-foot round hole. They measure it and pack up their equipment pretty fast.

Rice: “Alright well, that’s fun.”

Mefford: “That’s Jenga.”

JBER Pilot: “I know the aftermath isn’t as exciting. There’s a hole in the ground!”

The team heads back to the Unalaska fire house for a quick debrief. I ask if any of them thought about the history of the shell before they blew it up, and they say they did.

Mefford: “It’s just neat to come across something your granddad or great-uncle or whatever might have shot 70 years ago.”

Christopher McDonald, US Army: “Probably looked a lot better, though.”

Mefford: “Yeah, probably shinier back then.”

The EOD team is pretty sure that ordnance will keep washing up in Unalaska for a while.

That’s why, when it it’s time for the team to fly back to their base in Anchorage, saying “see you later” seems like a more appropriate than saying, “goodbye.”

Photo by Rebecca LaGuire, KCAW – Sitka

When you’re a teenager, looks matter. But one girl in Sitka decided that those concerns were trivial, and shaved her head for a cause much bigger than herself. By choosing to go bald, she was supporting childhood cancer research across the U.S.

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“My name is Celia Lubin. I’m 15-years-old and I go to Sitka High School.”

Like a lot of teenagers, she has a rebellious streak.

“My hair is purply, browny, blondy and its braids, and yeah,” Celia said.

She does a bunch of activities, like swimming, soccer, drama & debate, concert band, and she has her own radio show. But she’s doing something that very few teenage girls would do.

Photo by Rebecca LaGuire, KCAW – Sitka

“I am shaving my head for St. Baldrick’s,” Celia said.

Over the past decade, St. Baldrick’s Day has become a major fundraising event for pediatric cancer research. It all began in 1999 when a group of insurance executives in Manhattan shaved their heads in solidarity with young cancer patients.

At the Sitka event, Celia is the only teenage girl in line to go bald. She says cancer affects everybody’s lives.

“Probably everyone knows someone who’s had cancer,” she said. “It’s kind of devastating to think about, but it’s so common that everyone knows someone.”

Celia heard about St. Baldrick’s from a family friend and the main organizer of the event, David Vastola. He’s a doctor at SEARHC and has treated kids with cancer. He says because pediatric cancer is less common than adult cancer, it receives much less funding for research. Celia wants to give these sick children her support in a tangible way.

Photo by Rebecca LaGuire, KCAW – Sitka

“People who do chemo and lose their hair, it can be kind of isolating I think, so showing them support, not only with money and ‘hey I’m raising awareness for this cause,’ but, I’m going to stand there with you,” Celia said.

At the St. Baldrick’s event at the Sitka Elks Lodge, men and boys are sitting in barber chairs on stage, while local hair stylists shave their heads. A little boy is walking around collecting pledges and stuffing them into an envelope. There are about 100 people sitting at the tables, eating dinner and watching the action.

Lubin’s mom, Lisa Busch, says she was skeptical about her daughter’s decision at first.

“I thought, really?? Can we pay you to not shave your head?,” Lisa said.

But now?

“I’m feeling pretty good about it. I’m feeling really excited for Celia. Just like proud of her for doing this. Wondering what she’s going to look like bald,” Lisa said, laughing.

“They didn’t really have a lot of say. If they did object, I was just like, ‘Hey, I’m not doing drugs. I’m raising money for cancer,’” Celia said.

At the Elk’s Lodge, the announcer introduces Celia to the crowd.

“Who, at 15 years old, would have shaved their head? This is a very brave young lady…”

“I’m a little bit nervous but I’m really excited,” Celia said.

Celia’s hair is wavy and hangs past her shoulders. It’s brown with fresh dark purple streaks running randomly through it. The hair stylist who’s going to cut Celia’s hair helps the teen get comfortable.

Casey: “What’s your name?”

Celia: “Celia.”

Casey: “I’m Casey. I shaved my head last year. It’s awesome. You’re gonna love it. Ready?”

Casey: “Alright, here it goes.”

Because Celia recently dyed her hair, her scalp has some purple spots on it.

Photo by Rebecca LaGuire, KCAW – Sitka

“Yeah. i figured that would happen,” Celia said.

After Celia has her head completely shaved, she walks over to a table where her parents and friends are sitting.

“It looks great. It looks so good. I’m proud of her. She has a nice shaped head. I’m a lucky papa,” they said.

“It feels so good. I’ve never felt anything like this before,” Celia said.

Celia raised nearly $3,000 in pledges for the St. Baldrick’s Foundation. Since 2004, the national organization has contributed more than $100 million to fight pediatric cancers.

Celia does not see her participation as just a stunt.

“I know that I had a cancer free childhood and it was really great. I just think it would be really scary for kids my age and younger to have to go through something life-threatening illness like cancer, and I want to be able to help a little bit,” Celia said.

And she’s not worried about her lost locks. She says it’s just hair and it’ll grow back.

From its sound to its smell, it’s safe to say most meat eaters love everything about bacon. But few love it as much as Erik Johnson. He makes his homemade. Over the years he’s experimented with different bacon recipes, once even using an entire bottle of whiskey as a marinade. But as APRN’s Dave Waldron found out, it pays to keep it simple with something so good.

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A group of teenagers from the valley just released their very first CD. Gerygone & Twig used Kickstarter to raise money to produce the album called, “The Slee-py.”

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Photo courtesy of Gerygone & Twig.

The Wasilla based indie-folk band already has a small group of devoted fans. Now, with the new CD they are reaching more listeners in zip-codes across the nation.

Imagine an evening sitting in your living room with dim yellow lights, indie-folk music floating throughout the room. You and your friends are sipping some Kaladi coffee. This is what four-piece, teen-band Gerygone & Twig created at the First Presbyterian Church of Wasilla for their CD release show a few weeks ago. Not to mention, they brought a cake shaped like a banjo.

The band met through friends and during choir at Colony High School in Palmer. Member Rainy Hastings explains how they chose the name Gerygone & Twig.

“Well, a Gerygone is an Australian songbird whose name translates to ‘born of sound’ and twig is also a verb which means to understand especially using your eyes,” Rainy Hastings said, explaining how the group came up with its name. “I think it’s a good metaphor for our style, the way we like to incorporate words that people don’t know and how all of our lyrics have a way deeper meaning than what they sound like they mean.”

From band bios to concert posters and their music, the group has a poetic, folksy style.

The bands primary instruments are guitar, banjo, violin and upright bass, and they often take turns playing them.

“Another signature part of our band is that we are pretty rich in harmonies, we sing together a lot,” Hastings said.

The groups influences are Sufjan Stevens, Fleet Foxes and Andrew Bird.

Photo courtesy of Gerygone & Twig.

Determined to create an album, the band made a Kickstarter page online. Member Grace Kari said before they made the page, many of their family and friends didn’t know what Kickstarter was.

But the group was inspired by Alaska musician Marian Call, who also completed a successful Kickstarter campaign. She raised over $63,000 for her trip to Europe to tour and record a live album. Taking the lead from Call, Kari and her band set out with a smaller goal of raising enough money to record on their own in the Valley.

“We were like, we can do that! And so, we spent a long time making a stop-motion,” Kari said. “We made 1800 dollars to cover cost of the Slee-py.”

When the funds were raised, Gerygone & Twig purchased a small ProTools work station and recorded everything using just one microphone. Member Alex Lindgren says, friends with experience recording helped show them the ropes.

“We learned a lot in the process of doing this, then came the technical things like mixing and mastering,” Lindgren said.

Band member Grace Kari is happy with how the CD turned out

“The results were exceptional and way beyond our expectations,” she said.

Gerygone & Twig will be playing with another local band “Marching Band Solo” at Jitters Cafe in Eagle River on April 27, from 3-5 p.m.

Making caribou sausage is a family affair at Marc Wheeler’s house. Photo by Amanda Compton.

It’s not easy to get people to fork over hard-earned cash. Even for a good cause. But over the last decade Juneau resident Marc Wheeler has perfected the art of fundraising for the annual Big Brothers Big Sisters’ Bowl for Kids’ Sake. Wheeler has a secret weapon that involves throwing in some extra fat.

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(left) Francine Nicholi, 11th grade & (right) Jack Elook, 12th grade

This week on AK: Prom.

Getting ready for prom can be a time-consuming process, and finding the right dress isn’t easy, especially when you live in rural Alaska. At Sitka’s Mt. Edgecumbe High – the state-run

Auna Springer, 11th grade

boarding school – students got special treatment recently from a group of volunteers, most of whom work for Alaska Airlines.

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Photo by Ariel Van Cleave, KBBI – Homer

Each year, hundreds of fishermen brave the cold weather and sometimes choppy seas to compete in the Winter King Salmon Tournament in Homer. Pete Wedin has tried his hand at catching the heaviest fish for the last 16 years. And he was out on the water again last week in search of that sweet spot. KBBI’s Ariel Van Cleave hopped on the Early Dawn with Wedin and three other anglers and brought back this story.

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Muir is one of the most renowned naturalists of the last two centuries. President Theodore Roosevelt turned to Muir when planning America’s first National Parks. In the late 1800s, Muir decided to journey to the far north. And the first stop on his great Alaskan expedition was Wrangell Island in the Inside Passage. KSTK’s Shady Grove Oliver traces the history of Muir in Wrangell from his first steps on the island to his continued influence today.

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14. Jackie Keizer’s piece, “Come to Your Senses,” is made of plastic bags from various retailers. It’s worn here by Emily Reilly. Photo by Ed Ronco, KCAW – Sitka

Right now, as you’re listening to this, a group of Sitka residents are preparing to walk the runway. But they’ve traded in the usual fabrics for more eccentric media. Maybe it’s a dress that’s all zippers. Or a suit made out of nautical charts. Or a purse composed of bicycle valve stems. In the fashion world, this might be called madness. In Sitka, it’s called wearable art.

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