In the air, at the hospital, and at the bar with veterans: Snapshots of Christmas in Anchorage

Heather Henderson and her 12-year-old daughter, Suzanna, had Christmas dinner plans. But first they had to make a Monday afternoon trip to Alaska Regional Hospital.

A family friend was spending Christmas in the cardiac unit. Henderson and her daughter showed up with gifts — candles and an agate plate for them to rest on — though they ultimately took them home for safekeeping.

"We were hoping that our Christmas gift would be her coming home," said Henderson, 51. Her friend is recovering but can't leave yet — she still needs surgery, Henderson said.

The holiday, for Henderson and her family, was like so many others' in Anchorage, with time for family, gifts and relaxation even as the quotidian and sometimes frustrating facts of life intervened.

Before the trip to the hospital, Henderson said her Christmas started off with gifts. Suzanna got a new tablet and steampunk goggles that she was still wearing in the afternoon.

Later, they were heading to Henderson's parents' house on the Hillside, for a prime rib dinner. But first they wanted to see their friend, who Henderson said was "overwhelmed" with visitors Monday.

"I think it reminded her that there's a reason for her to get better and get out of the hospital," Henderson said.

Just down the road at Merrill Field, Larry Jones was spending his Christmas Day like many other Alaskans: at work.

Jones, 41, was giving lessons at Land and Sea Aviation. At 3 p.m., he'd just finished one flight in a twin-engine Beechcraft Duchess and he was getting ready for his next one.

Both of Jones' students were getting ready for "check rides" — kind of like a driver's test for pilots. They weren't paying extra for the Christmas Day lessons.

"These are my customers. They've got goals to reach and I'm here to help them," said Jones, an electrical engineer who teaches flying as a hobby.

Why work Christmas, though?

"'Cause I like to fly," he said.

Jones and his twin-engine student spent more than an hour over Big Lake and Wasilla in the low-angle, afternoon sun. They were practicing slow flight, and what to do when an engine shuts down.

Santa did not make an appearance, Jones said, although he did read an online weather report that warned of turbulence from his sleigh. He was planning to go home after his 3 p.m. flight lesson to cook dinner with his family, then head to a kid-friendly movie, he said.

While Jones' office saw a little Christmas activity, the rest of Merrill Field — which normally buzzes with small planes — was nearly deserted.

So were most of the parking lots at the city's big-box stores and restaurants, though a few Asian places were crammed with customers.

A couple of stragglers lingered in cars at the Walmart lot at Muldoon and DeBarr roads, where two men sat in a running pickup. One of them held a leafy-looking clump in his fingertips that he described as "green stuff"; he said he was dealing with some "Christmas blues" and didn't want to talk about it.

One of the few places in town that actually seemed busy was the American Legion post in Spenard. The lot was filled with Jeeps and pickups, and dozens of people sat around the big, rectangle-shaped bar.

The post's commander, Art Bell, said he arrived early Monday to start cooking the annual Christmas meal for the post, which is open to veterans and their guests. About 175 people show up for prime rib, ham, creamed corn and peas and what one member described as "historical" family recipes for dishes like jello salad.

The food was served downstairs. But in the early afternoon, most people were crowded around the bar upstairs, where a fireplace radiated heat and members in leather jackets and vests sat shoulder to shoulder.

"You've got people who have seen things that sometimes they can only talk about to another veteran," said Bell, 60. "You know you'll be welcome and you know you'll be treated right."

Bell, who was at the post with his wife, said he'd been cooking since the day before. He would stay until 4 p.m.

"Then," he said, "I get to go home and pass out."