Comment on Friends Meeting, poems, trees:
I’ve always been restless. I was raised in an atheist household and when I showed up at Joan and Niilo’s door I didn’t envision anything more in life than whatever I saw at the moment. A self-contained world I carried around with me. Everything I did, everything that came my way I interpreted as of my own making or discovery.
I did have sense of wonder with the natural world that bordered on the supernatural. Sometimes when I was walking on a high lonely place, watched the light fade, felt the wind switch at sunset, I sensed the possibility of another world.
On Sundays I occasionally attended the Friends Meeting in Niilo’s front room. I was fascinated with people who spilled out their thoughts at evening sauna being so still at morning meeting. I liked it. And I attributed it to the same sense I felt when sitting on a rock at wind shift. These were simply older people sitting on their rock.
I read constantly. Woody Guthrie had plenty to say about social causes and the importance of working together, Quaker sort of ideals, an introduction to the idea of community. John Muir spoke of God in those high places. I liked the way he wrote, but I figured he was just a product of his times, seeing the same wondrous world I saw, but constricted by society to an explanation that paid due to the confines of organized religion.
My father was a heavily shell shocked war vet and prisoner of war that knew it was a godless world. I had spent too many lonely hours with him to believe it was any different. So I brushed off the Friends meeting along with all the other religious contrivances of man.
As an outgrowth of some of those meetings I occasionally took part in poetry readings. Something that bridged the gap between the free for all conversation of sauna and the silence of meeting. Most of the poetry I had heard up to that point seemed dull and academic. Niilo changed that for me. I remember him reading a poem he had written about chopping wood in cold weather, “WHACK! Birch splits well at -30.”
Bob Betts sensed my fascination with plain speech and gave me a little book of Robert Service Poems – I Continued walking, looking, writing down my thoughts:

It wasn’t a comfortable night ( from Roadrunner 2007)

I kept waking
Building up the fire
Wondering where my dreams went
Running out of wood
Wandering around looking for more

And despite all that
Never moving some little rocks and twigs
That stuck me in the side
No matter how I turned

But I lay there
Sometimes thinking, mostly cold
Till first dawn
When I drifted off
And had a little sleep

Then woke
With the sunlight coming on my face
Tired enough
I lay there
Free from the soreness of rocks and twigs

And mindful
Of nothing more than the sun
It’s light fractured by the grove of trees above
Giving only
An indication of motion and time

At some point I started asking Niilo about Quaker philosophy. Trying to bridge the gap between nature, community, moral obligation and the inner self. Niilo sent me enough literature to sink a battleship. Mixed in with references to trains, riverboats and Finland were many good thoughts. Solid ideas. I developed a belief in the Quaker Social Testimonies.
By then, decades down the line I’d managed to hit bottom a few times. And it seemed to me that there must be something more than just community and the wonder of nature, something that helped me out when I was down there on the floor. This was highly refuted by some friends. Well meaning and concerned with my sanity they corrected me when I said I had religious feelings, reminding me that it was spirituality, my wonder for it all. I wasn’t so sure. Sometimes I just needed help.

Prayer (from Roadrunner 2007)
Contemplation
A long walk alone in mind

Early morning
Cup of coffee
Feeding the fire
Before sun rise

Sat silent
Talked silent
Looked out the door for the light of dawn

Did someone hear me?
A thought that
Carried past the days work, and

Returned over
Months
Years
Decades

And settled somewhere
Between silence and memory
As
Belief in something

Anything

No, not anything

But that
Which is more
Than alone in mind

I remain restless, choose to walk rather than sit, slowing down only for the turn of wind at sunset or a shared cup of coffee with a friend. But I am convinced that the silent meeting I first saw at Niilo’s house has had an effect on me, as have his many thoughts on the matter. Even if I can only sit alone in the physical sense, it seems that I am not alone in faith.

Wind (from Roadrunner 2007)
Sun
Stars at night

Hot
Cold
Snow

Ridgeline
Pinion Pine
Holds back
My urge to go

Hours pass
Shadows track
Move from shade to sun

Gather wood
Set up Camp
Watch the day be done

Deep sleep
Wake at dawn
And a prayer
Unfolds

Listening
With
Expectation
And
No need to know

–John Culbertson 2008/05/07 at 9:43 AM

“Big Deal,” Dad said after Heather and I helped him move from one chair to another yesterday.  I wondered what word to use instead of “said” in that previous sentence:  was it “groused” or “enthused?”  For Heather and me, it was “delighted,” because Dad is stronger every day and doing more of the work of moving himself.  For Dad, it might be “this is really something, isn’t it? Being pleased I can actually push myself up? Big deal/little thing.”  His few steps one day are doubled in territory covered the next, so yes, big deal!

It’s hard to tell what Dad is thinking, at least for me.  He’s not giving us a running commentary.  Sometimes he reads the newspaper and talks a little about the news.  Sometimes I read him things people have sent and he says nothing.  As Heather and I wheeled him to the door, he glimpsed Heather’s dog through a window and in strong voice commented on that.  Wes and Toby called yesterday, and they said they got snippets of his humor.  Dad has had more visitors, which is very welcome.

Lois Henderson brought a lentil dish and muffins and helped Heather with a chore or two.  Thanks!  Heather also wrote to me last night: “Lots happening today, and help from people: Don Ross brought homemade frozen lasagna; Jim Johnsen visited; Lois; Jim Cheydleur brought cookies his wife Diane made; Rob Mulford helped with evening watch & conversation while J & H outside, and conversation with J while H doing this.”

I, Chena, went to the Ridge yesterday in the morning for a wee bit, then back home.  After Alzheimer Support Group at noon today, I’ll be back up to kick around with Dad, Mom and Heather on the Ridge.  Marilyn, who worked as a part time care giver to Dad before his hospitalization, returned to work today and is a great help to us for a couple of hours several mornings a week.   I’m hoping Heather can have more time for herself this week, and maybe if Dad’s “big deals” give him more autonomy, Heather will have more too.

–Chena

I first met Niilo and Joan in the summer of 1969. I was 19 years old and Bob Betts brought me up for Sauna. I was pretty full of myself then, and pretty full of big ideas about Alaska – riding high on an all expenses paid summer of jumping fires for Uncle Sam. And I had a secret plan. I figured it was only a matter of time till I found gold out on a fire, then I’d stake a claim and leave the rest to history. I hauled a gold pan around most places and older wiser people kidded me about it. I think Bob Betts took pity on me.
He said, “Come on and I’ll introduce you to a guy that’s run one of those big gold dredges, has a sauna too. We’ll take a sauna.”
I asked, ”What’s that?”
“What’s a sauna? Well you’ll see”
Bob took me up Chena Ridge and it was Sunday night. I walked through that tinkling front door and it was like I got sucked in to a vortex. There was so much going on that I so interested in that I never took a sauna that first night. Like I was running on remote I walked over to Niilo and sat down on the floor next to about 10,000 other people and soaked up the conversation.
I didn’t know who Niilo was but he seemed to be the main attraction in the room. He was wrapped in damp towels and even had one on his head. He looked over to me like he had known me all his life – and with no need to bother with any form of introduction started in on this huge explanation of the cost of electricity in rural area’s and the need for people to work in a cooperative manner on issues effecting the general welfare of the community and the well being of it’s citizens.
I’d never heard anyone talk like that before. There was this self-assured calmness that seemed to pour out across the room. People commented, gave examples, even disagreed. But everything was straight across, all was fair possibility. After while the conversation turned to mining. I was sitting next to real minors, asked them questions and didn’t get laughed at. Nobody thought it was odd I hoped to find gold. People said things like “Well, if your gonna use a pan you’d be better head out to the forty mile country…, say what was his name, you know, that guy did real well panning?”
After that it was railroads. During a big discussion on the pro’s and con’s of narrow gauge some guy came in the driveway with a real diesel locomotive horn on his truck blasting an arrival note just in case anyone needed to know. I picked up a guitar and ripped off a few Woody Guthrie songs hoping to add to the fair play/electricity/railroad theme. Joan brought me the best tea in the whole world and showed me her horses and chickens.
Bob finally found me and introduced me to Niilo and then it was time to go. A sort of never ending hubbub emitted from deeper in the building. Joan’s horses bumped the wall. Niilo continued to sit in his chair wrapped it wet towels.
He said to Bob, “Oh yes we’ve been talking about mining, electricity, trains.” Laughed. “Sang a song to that effect.” Everybody laughed. Niilo raised his hand in salute.
Bob smiled and took me back to the base. I didn’t sleep that night. I lay on my bunk. Watched the light. I don’t think I had ever felt as at home in any place in my whole short life. If I could have seen them, I would have thanked my lucky stars.
That was thirty-nine years ago. I never found the gold. But I never stopped going to the house, sitting and talking. Winter and summer. Watching the light. Thanks.

Walking between the ridge and lower field
Headlamp off when it started to snow

I was listening
Listening
And not knowing if my eyes
Were open or closed

Dreams and what I saw
Maybe remembered
Mixed with the night

And for just a moment were clear

Then fields slope dropped to forest
Horizon faded
And I was standing
Standing and turning with the Earth

Her gravity held me that winter night
Snow in darkness
Light
And not alone

–John Culbertson

2008/05/05 at 8:31 PM

Niilo, your life has been an inspiration to me in so many ways but what stands out beyond all else is your life as a Quaker. It is not likely that I would have discovered the Quakers without your lighting my path in that direction. For that I am grateful. So, as I followed the footsteps of George Fox through Northwest England last fall you were very much in my thoughts and with me in spirit. I thought of you so often on that trip – at the British National Train Museum at York, exploring the dungeon under Lancaster Castle where George Fox and many other Quaker were imprisoned, or during Meeting for Worship in the Great Hall at Swarthmore. I want to share just one of the many incredible experience I had during four days of visiting 1652 Country Quaker landmarks guided by local Friends from the Kendal Meeting. The story I wrote of our climb up Pendle Hill is too long to post here so I will e-mail it to you via Heather.

Thank you Chena and Heather for sharing your thoughts through this website and for allowing all of us at such a great distance from Chena Ridge who care so much for Nillo – but who cannot come too see him – to be part of your homestead family during this time.

–Bob Betts

2008/05/05 at 3:20 PM

This evening Niilo was able to transfer from chair to wheelchair, etc. with only one helper…a step toward renewed mobility! Enjoying some late ginger ale in bed, he declined a refill: ” I think that this would be thought to be enough.” The wooded hillsides of Chena Ridge have a very faint green hue tonight, and it’s sprinkling…soon to be green!

Earlier today, Niilo enjoyed talking to his Finnish American friends Lauri (pronounced La-u-ree, a masculine name) and Harry, by phone.

Heather

I went on a short walk this evening, enjoying the warmth and watching the snow melt trickling in the ditch along side my driveway. There are quite a few downed trees this spring. Some of them are big and old: these mostly fall leaving a stump of several feet and others breaking much higher, with a “half tree” of rotted wood still standing. I like to think both the fallen part and that which is left both nourish. There was an owl nest in one very tall remnant, for ages….until even the remnant keeled over at last.

Some of the trees which have fallen over have such a small diameter I surmise they are not old at all. Some fall in parts, separate sections along a line which ends/begins in that stump.

No big thoughts here, just sort of thinking about tree death and all life/death occurring in the young, middle, and later years. Heather and I looked out with Dad at what I call “the loop” of the driveway today. Still too early for green, nevertheless there is promise for us when we ponder the trees on the inside of the circular driveway. Heather pointed out that quite a few of the trees are dead. There has been a steady culling of trees near the house over the past years: Heather told of holding this rope and that to keep the top from falling on the house, and working with this and that person. I remember other people. But always it seems there were many, toiling for hours to kindly remove those trees which had reached the end….

Some of the trees ended up in the sauna, fueling another hot Sunday night. Others were the sort of wood one wishes to use wisely, but knows doesn’t burn hot enough.

I saw a spruce tree, almost denuded on the south side of bark. Heather said the woodpeckers love that tree. Ah yes, it IS dead, isn’t it? And so close to the house. Don’t tell the fire department because the kids have often been very concerned about “the zone” of protective space around that log house, but removing all the trees to keep it safe almost kills the soul of our hillside home.

Dad listened in as we three–Heather, Niilo, Chena–looked out on the north side of the house and discussed the changes (and the sames). No comment. To Heather and me, I think the continuity has deep meaning. We have helped build and take on more responsibility. Now the changes of stewardship are more pressing, but we have need to look back and listen to what Dad and Mom have done.

Then we went into the house to prepare supper. June’s stunning fish pie looked like a work of art and I thought how wonderful of her to make it for Dad and the family. Thank you so much.

But I haven’t even talked of how I started the day. Nancy Davidian went over early to help Heather and so I came a little later. Isn’t Nancy divine?! Yes, and I was all business getting laundry sorted and whatnot. Nancy seemed NOT nonplussed by everything and I was secretly so happy she is my new neighbor (20 or something miles away from the Ridge). She and Chris have recently purchased and are continuing on a homestead nearby me, worked I think mostly in hay in the past, but on to new things with Nancy and Chris. I wish them luck (and am excited by their endeavor) and maybe Gary and I can even help somehow in the coming years, as they develop a Community Supported Agriculture site (so rumor has it) and other good things. Dad would be so pleased. Farming was one of the zillion things he would have loved to do even better and fuller had he been 20 people.

Lots in between. Sure hope Heather posts to let you know how Dad was doing and whatnot. Thanks all of you for being such a caring community. Oh, and the trees should be greening up soon: don’t they do it every single year?

–Chena

To Niilo’s fine family:I posted a comment to Niilo and the family on April 28, as soon as I received Harry’s message, I also posted Harry’s on our several democratic socialist discussion lists, prefacing it with mention of the fine work by both Niilo and the wide-ranging Harry.

I am not Finnish — am a Native American — but my spouse of 47 years is substantially Finnish. Both Eldri and I have always appreciated our fine friendship with Niilo and have always been truly grateful for his excellent and sparky letters and the books and related materials that he has sent us.

Niilo, you are a true friend and a solid fighter for social justice — for all. When we think of you, we think of a great mountain of flint, sturdy and enduring always. And that great mountain looks and points far beyond to the better world for humanity and helps trail-blaze to it — for all of us in “the save the world business.”

Take care, old friend and our prayers and best thoughts go always to you and your most wonderful family!

In Solidarity always –

Hunter [Hunter Bear] and Eldri Gray.

(Hunter and Eldri Gray posted this on May 4, 2008 at 2:08 am, as a comment on “Posting Comments.” I apologize to him for not moving it forward to its own stand alone. There are challenges with the format of this site which I am trying to work with, and one of those is that your comment is attached to whatever post you commented on. I am now happy to have people post on “About” because I am better about moving your comments out of there to a stand alone post all your very own. –Chena)

Niilo was up for hours today in the recliner given by Diane Preston. He received visits from Dae Miles (last night), Rob Mulford, Pat & Susan Kalen, June Thomasson, and Hospice volunteer DeVonne.

Each brought something special.

Dae, who has cleared the fields since Niilo’s hip replacement made it too difficult for Niilo, informed me that he has written and video clips of Niilo at: http://alaskaconstitution.com/niilo/ and at links from that page: Go see!

Rob helped with transfers, setting up an air mattress, moving some equipment, et al, and read aloud to Niilo.

Pat & Susan brought a good supply of honey their bees made on the Koponen homestead over the past decade and shared much interesting bee information with Niilo, Joan, Chena, and Heather. We also updated each other a bit on respective family news.

And of course Chena came from Chena Hot Springs Rd to help in myriad ways, as she has almost every day for 16 + years. Niilo gave poor Chena a scare by an episode of sleep apnea during which he wouldn’t wake up for what seemed like a lifetime; Next time he scares us like that he just might get pinched!

June visited and brought a fish pie, as Niilo loves fish; however, it was late so he will have it tomorrow.

DeVonne and Heather got surprised by Niilo walking 10 feet with the walker (and our moderate help) after brushing teeth, etc.

Thanks so much for each of your visits and contributions!

Heather

I was very distressed to hear Niilo was in the hospital with multiple problems, and happy to hear he is home being cared for by loving family. He and Joan are very fortunate to have such children!!

Niilo has always been a favorite person to me, though I haven’t seen him often enough in many years. He agreed to let me work in his grants department in the School District, writing and later fulfilling a grant for video self-evaluation for student teachers. We were in the old F.E. building on Illinois St., with several other interesting teachers, and had a great year. Niilo was a benign and helpful supervisor, and I enjoyed many chats about the Finnish language and other subjects residing in his awesome brain.

He has always been a role model for me, always giving his time and ability generously to the community. I am thinking of him every day and will give a call soon.

–Karen Parr

From 2008/05/03 at 7:07 AM

I just got word from Harry Siitonen tha Niilo is suffering from Alzheimer’s, and is at home after a several week stay in hospital for gall bladder surgery.

It has been so many years since I met Niilo – decades, which move like
days as one gets older – but have kept in touch with him by email from
time to time.

His family should know (and I’m sure does) that he is widely respected far
beyond Alaska. And I’m sure he is, himself, delighted with what I can read of his family.

Peace, fraternally, May Day greetings,
David McReynolds, New York City