Alaska Pioneer Press Morgue
Download our Current and
Past Editions Here -- Just
Click the Image!
Find 2008 Editions
Our Library is Your
Library. Each of our
editions are
available HERE.
Download our Ad
Rates
Here's our National
Media Kit. We offer
competitive prices.
Learn all about us
HERE.
(907) 733-6397 (NEWS)   E-mail: editor@akpioneerpress.com
SUBSCRIBE! Just $30/year via mail, or $20/year e-mailed to your account.
Call, us or send check to Alaska Pioneer Press, P.O. Box 1024, Talkeetna, AK 99676
Special Sections:
Dec. 2009
Nov. 2009
Sept. 2009
Oct. 2009
Aug. 2009
July 2009
Gateway to
Denali Summer
Guide
May 2009
Gateway to
Denali Summer
Guide
June 2009
WInter Activity
Guide
December 2009

By Jonathan Durr

'Jay-Bird'

  Where does the time go?
 When I first heard that Jay Hudson was terminally ill, I said no way!  Just
last week Jay was 15 and I was 13 and we were walking to the Catholic
Church for the Friday night movie.
 Before TV was common in Talkeetna, the Friday night movie was the
social entertainment highlight of the week. And now, for all my world’s
wisdom, I have yet to get a grasp on the time going by, everybody getting
older thing.
 I first met Jay in 1970. He had wandered up to the train depot to look at
the hippies. In 1970, hippies were still a novelty in Talkeetna. The town
people were sure that the Manson Family was establishing a commune
at Chase and that they were all doomed.
 Jay was a bright-eyed lad with the look of a prankster about him. I
noticed this and immediately sensed a kindred spirit. Jay sized me up as
a potential amigo and for the next 39 years that’s what we were. Pals.
 Most people knew Jay as the great bush pilot. What Michael Jordan
could do with a ball on the basketball court, Jay could do with a Super
Cub in the air. He was just that good. However, Jay was complex and had
a lot of other sides to him.
 Jay had a great sense of humor. In high school, he could have us
laughing for hours. And he had a great laugh.
 One year in high school, Jay, myself, and another nefarious character
named Billy Van Hoose lived together in a trailer in what is now known as
the “Scotty box.”
 We had quite the teen-age bachelor pad until Jay’s parents, Cliff and
Ollie, hired some scalawag named Doug Geeting from California and
evicted us so Doug could have a place to live.
 Since the statute of limitations has long expired, I can come clean and
confess that on Saturday nights it was easy for us to sneak into the
Roadhouse while old Carol Close dosed in his easy chair and help
ourselves to a case of beer.
 Sometimes I would go home to Back Lake on weekends and Jay would
pick me up in a Super Cub. Dad would yell, “Your taxi is here!” and away
we’d go. Of course we always took an adventurous route home. It’s a
good thing that Cliff and Ollie didn’t know how much fun we were having
with the family Super Cub.
 Jay also had a sensitive side, especially when it came to family and
friends. He once medivaced me from Back Lake and I was really touched
at how concerned and upset he was about my condition. He even barked
at one of the EMTs: “Hey! Be careful with him!”
 That was Jay. Jay always had a very grounded sense of identity. He was
extremely proud of his family legacy and he was loyal to his family, his
friends, and to Talkeetna.
 I often tried to imagine Jay in a crisp uniform flying 747s. Hearing his
voice over the intercom: “This is Captain Jay Hudson; we are beginning
our descent into JFK and expect to be on the ground. . .” Had Jay wanted
to do that, he could have. However, I can remember flying with him over
his beloved Talkeetna Mountains, glancing over and seeing him looking
down at the vast cold country with a trace of a smile on his face. That’s
who Jay was.
 Why Jay got sick and died way too soon I can’t figure out. That’s way
above my pay grade. I just hope his journey to Waken Tonka hooked him
up with a Super Cub, grub box, sleeping bag and rifle. Make the trip a little
easier for a good Talkeetna boy.

Tales    
From    
the Trail