Fish and Game kept testing the herring to see if they were ripe yet.
“That year we waited more than a week to fish. You see, being a fisherman isn’t what you do it’s who you are.”īy the 25th anniversary of the disaster five years late, however, the story had changed considerably. None of us sure what that would be, but willing to do anything to protect our livelihood. Where the hell were the containment booms? Where were the emergency response teams? Why were we still sitting in the harbor? Hundreds of boats, days before racing to the herring grounds, now fueled up to do something. The Goddamn environmentalists were blocking the burning of the oil…how much was there? Where was it going to go? There was a storm coming from the North. A man named Rex was convinced it was a plot to bring oil platforms into Prince William Sound. “We had just enjoyed a herring opening that promised a money season. Coffee, cigarette smoke, fishy raingear and a frantic need to know charged the wheel house. We were docked in Sitka and picked up the local news feed on our television normally reserved for Mel Gibson videos or the Lonesome Dove series.
Brett kavanaugh skull and bones full#
“On the morning of March 24th (1989), the galley of the (M/V) Westward was full of fishermen. On the 20th anniversary of the oil spill, one of them wrote this personal account of wrestling with the disaster: The incompetent seasmanship and the massive oil spill that followed this shipwreck traumatized many Alaskans. Personal truths replace facts.Ĭonsider the following two, detailed, published accounts of how news of the Exxon Valdez hitting Bligh Reef in 1989 first reached an Alaska newspaper columnist. When you go back to confirm memories of what was, you often find that what you remember happening didn’t happen or didn’t happen the way you remember it or when you remember it or how you remember it. All that exists are memories – hers and his, his and hers – and memories are sadly, tragically, horribly fallible, most especially the memories of youth.Īs a journalist, you almost inevitably discover this human frailty. No records put him at the scene or elsewhere. No records, as we now know, exist to document the behaviors of Kavanaugh or Ford at a long-ago, high school party where she says he attacked. Whether they reflect on Kavanaugh’s claimed lack of memory or Christine Blasey Ford’s stated clarity of memory is left to the reader to decide. This is a subject on which I never wanted to write, but I have some old notes from a story never written that offer insight into the fallability of memory. What better to argue over than something about which no one will ever know the truth because the truth will never be known? In this the age of personal-truth, Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh has become the perfect focal point for America’s divisive partisanship.
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