There's the black and white image of a young man, standing in a crowd with his hand in the air, speaking with an intensity that captivates even through the still silence of the picture. There's the older man with a mustache and glasses and hair flecked with gray, white ice and a striking Arctic sunset behind him, smiling. It's the span of a lifetime of activism in a few frames.
Small in comparison to the images above them, members of the North Slope community stand shoulder to shoulder on the stage, some holding hands, some linking arms. They are up there to pay tribute to this man, Charles "Etok" Edwardsen, Jr., who died this May on a whaling trip outside of Barrow. He was 71.
Though his death is months past, memories of him are very much alive.
"We knew Etok to be a fierce fighter of not only the land claims, but we also knew him personally as family, as a friend," said Crawford Patkotak, an executive vice president for the Arctic Slope Regional Corporation.
He had a passion for the land. He brought people together over hunting rights, fought against those who would stop whaling and who would take the land for its oil. He helped found the Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission.
"All these things we remember as we reflect on Etok and what he has done for not only the people of the Arctic slope but all the people of the state of Alaska," said Patkotak. "He fought hard for us, all of us. We have much to be grateful for such a leader as Etok."
He lobbied hard for the people of the North Slope to claim and manage their own land. He fought against the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act, saying it was settling too much.
"What he has done for all of us will live generation to generation. He'll never be forgotten. And what he fought for yesterday, we continue to fight for today, self-determination, the rights to our hunting, the rights to our lands, basic human rights as natives and for that we are forever grateful," said Patkotak.
He was an icon of the 1960s and 1970s, a time when the world turned upside-down for the people of the North Slope.
"We saw that this was a continuation of the great spirit of courage that came from the north," said Julie Kitka, president of AFN. "We can't even imagine the pressures, the pain, on a group of people with the discovery of the largest oil deposit in all of North America and the greed that would come in from the industry, and everybody wanting to capture that for themselves, and government being nonresponsive or actually working to your detriment, and the conflict of interest for lawyers not being really in place, so you didn't know whether or not your lawyers that you had working for you were telling you the straight scoop or not. It was a different time."
Another speaker talked about the early 1970s, after the discovery of Prudhoe Bay oil, the people of the North Slope banded together and made a petition for a vote to create a local government. Seven oil companies filed a suit in Alaska superior court to stop the vote. The lawsuit failed.
"Etok's legacy is his fierce activism and serving as a catalyst for change," she said.
Each of the speakers told stories to paint a picture of Etok. The picture that emerged was of someone fierce. He was fiercely passionate, fiercely loyal, fiercely dedicated and focused. That ferocity made him a difficult person at times. Although he stuttered, he also had a habit of shouting, of making rude comments at inappropriate times, of getting people to listen.
He butted heads with the federation on a number of occasions, not the least when he began lobbying against ANCSA.
"While we didn't always agree with him, we tremendously respected him and his convictions and the courage that he represented," said Kitka.
He helped found the Arctic Slope Native Association and sought advice from elders. He saw the slope go from a non-cash economy to a cash economy, from the way it had been before to overseen and managed by federal agencies, categorized as a subsistence way of life, rather than just a way of life.
"He helped us to understand what it means to be owner of our own land because when we built houses we'd have our family come and build right next to it because we didn't understand property rights," said Marie Carroll, president and CEO of the association. "We all loved him and he'll be really missed."
Elder Brenda Itta remembers Etok from when they were both children. They grew up together, were sent to the same Bureau of Indian Affairs schools, ended up at Mt. Edgecumbe in Sitka.
"I think my most memorable moment of Etok was the time that he and I were chosen to represent the Arctic Slope," said Itta. "[We] had a team of Alaska Native people go down to Washington, D.C. to lobby for land claims. So, Etok and I walked the halls of Congress with a list of congressman and U.S. senators that we were to meet with. It was a very long day."
At the end of the day, they were both discouraged, she said. They felt their pleas were falling on deaf ears. They left those halls and were walking through the city. After a while, they found themselves beneath a large building, "and looked up above its huge doors and there was an inscription that said 'with liberty and justice for all.' And at that time, when we read that, as Americans -- on top of that Native Americans -- Alaska Native people -- we had a discussion on that and said that it seems like 'liberty and justice for all' applies to Americans down here in the Lower 48, but not to everybody," said Itta.
There was tremendous pressure, she said, because of the oil, because of the construction of the Trans-Alaska pipeline after that. Etok was chosen by the generation of leaders before them to be a spokesperson and that was a great responsibility.
"The thing that stands out to me through all of that, was not only did Etok have a very powerful voice, he did not speak on his own. The words that he said and the voice that he spoke with were for his family. He spoke words that were handed to him not only by his family, but also by the leaders who were there during our generation. So, he spoke for the Inupiaq people," Itta said.
"Sometimes in our greatest weaknesses, our weaknesses become our strengths," said Itta.
His stutter made him a forceful speaker. He used it to his advantage. He sparked controversy with it. He wasn't always nice with it. But he used it.
His good friend, elder Oliver Leavitt, said sometimes he acted kind of crazy, but he got away with it. He told the story of going out late one night and shooting 300 ducks, carrying them back into Barrow with a Fish and Wildlife Service plane circling overhead, handing them out to the villagers.
"You know some years it's just flat ice in front of Barrow and it was flat as could be, like the longest air strip in the world. That damn plane's coming down," said Leavitt. "But we made it.
"But that was my first confrontation with federal officials saying, you guys are nuts. You guys are crazy. Of course they promised us there's more to come," said Leavitt. "And God was there more to come."
In his stories, Etok is the rowdy one, the brave one, the one who pushes boundaries. Leavitt is the one who stays home to administrate, or goes along and tries not to get too caught up in Etok's "crazy" plans.
"I used to tell him he was more fun than a barrel of monkeys," said Leavitt. "But he never gave up. I hope he rests in good peace because you were one hell of a man, Etok. He was my best friend. He will always be my best friend."
He, like many of the speakers, thanked Etok's family for sharing Etok with them for so many years and for letting them speak about him now.
"It gives me great healing in my heart," said Itta.
The speakers took the time they needed to say what they had to say. They spoke past the adjournment time for the evening. When the conference leaders tried to end the memorial, some of the speakers argued back, saying that's what used to happen to Etok. People would try to silence him. They gave them a little more time.
Etok's son walked up to the microphone after Leavitt stepped away. He wanted to give a final message. He said he hoped it would be taught to the next generation and the generation after that.
"The native people of Alaska, we're the rightful owners of Alaska. The natives never lost no wars, we never gave any land to any white people, we're the owners and that's a message my dad taught me since I was a little kid."
This article originally appeared in the Arctic Sounder and is republished here with permission.
This story first appeared in The Arctic Sounder and is republished here with permission.