KNBA - Anchorage

The family of a woman whose photos Anchorage police found on a convicted killer’s phone think she is yet another of his victims.

A jury convicted Brian Steven Smith of murder in February for killing two Alaska Native women, and a judge in mid-July sentenced him to 226 years behind bars. In their sentencing memorandum, prosecutors included photos from one of Smith’s cellphones showing another woman who appeared to be unconscious or dead, along with a forensic artist’s sketch of her.

Now, Cassandra Boskofsky’s family says she is the woman in the photos, and they want answers about where her remains are located and why police haven’t identified her as Smith’s third victim.

Protestors stood in the rain across from the Anchorage Police Department at noon on Friday. Their faces were stamped with red handprints, a symbol of solidarity in the Missing and Murdered Indigenous People movement.

They carried signs that said, “Where is Cassandra?” and “Bring Cassandra home.”

Raindrops streamed like tears on a poster-sized photo of Cassandra Boskofsky’s face. She was 38 when her family reported her missing in August 2019.

Detectives seized the phone from Smith, when they took him in for questioning in another case, about a month after Boskofsky disappeared.

That was almost five years ago. In February, a jury convicted Smith of the murders of Kathleen Jo Henry and Veronica Abouchuk. Both were from remote coastal communities in Western Alaska. Evidence in Smith’s trial included video of him taunting and killing Henry.

Prosecutors said in their sentencing memo that the woman in the newly released photos was likely another of Smith’s victims, and they used them to make a case for a harsher sentence. Their recommendations prevailed, with Smith receiving the equivalent of two life sentences.

But Cassandra Boskofsky’s family still wants justice for their loved one.

Marcella Bofskofsky-Grounds is Boskofsky’s cousin, and said they were raised together like sisters when they were small. It was Bofskofsky-Grounds who reported her missing, shortly after her disappearance in 2019.

Bofskofsky-Grounds said she doesn’t understand why police kept the photos a secret for so long and why they waited to share them only days before Smith was sentenced. She said she recognized Boskofsky instantly and felt shocked, distraught and angry with police.

“She didn’t matter. That’s how I felt, like she didn’t matter to them,” Bofskofsky-Grounds said, “because they only brought it up to our attention, a week before his sentencing.”

So far, Anchorage police have not confirmed that the unidentified woman in Smith’s cell phone photos is Boskofsky.

It’s the department’s policy not to comment on active investigations, according to APD Detective Brendan Lee. Police try to avoid contacting a victim’s family until they have physical evidence, to avoid causing them grief over a case of mistaken identity, he said.

“APD takes the families affected into account and does not want to give information until it is 100% confirmed,” Lee said in an email. “Telling a family member that a loved one is missing or deceased without being 100% accurate can be just as mentally detrimental to them.”

Antonia Commack, a Missing or Murdered Indigenous Persons activist, isn’t satisfied with that explanation. Once the photos and the artist’s sketch went public, she said, it was easy to identify the images on Smith’s cellphone.

“I knew of a lot of (MMIP) cases statewide, and I knew, I knew immediately, that that was Cassandra,” she said. “When regular people can just look at a photo and identify it immediately, that’s really poor investigation.”

Police should be held accountable for their failure to act, Commack said. If they had made an artist’s sketch of Smith’s victim public shortly after they found the photo of the unknown woman on his phone, Boskofsky might have been identified a long time ago, she said.

But there’s often more going on behind the scenes than police can share with the public, said Lee, the detective.

“APD does not give out all details about ongoing investigations in order to preserve the investigation and not compromise it,” Lee said.

Cassandra Boskofsky’s aunt, Terrie Boskofsky, was one of about eight family members at the protest who chanted, “Where is Cassandra?” and “Justice for Cassandra.”

Her message to police: Their work is far from over.

“I want them to help find the remains,” she said, “so we can put her to rest.”

Grief over Boskofsky is widespread, she said.

“She came from a very large family,” Terrie Boskofsky said. “She had 14 aunts and uncles on my side.”

Boskofsky was raised in Ouzinkie and Old Harbor, two communities near Kodiak, where she has dozens of extended family members who will feel her loss, made more painful by knowing the difficulties she faced throughout her whole life. Boskofsky lost her mother in an ATV accident when she was small, and as an adult, her family said, she struggled with addiction. She had seven children, and all were adopted out.

But despite that, another aunt, Lisa Ann Christiansen, said people loved her niece for her good qualities, like the way she enjoyed the outdoors and helping others.

“She had really pretty, dark, long hair,” Christiansen said. “Dark eyes. The high cheekbones. Dimples. Just beautiful.”

Boskofsky enjoyed showing off pictures of her children, Christiansen said.

“You know, she loved her family,” she said. “Even though she didn’t have her kids, she loved them.”

People always hoped Boskofsky would eventually turn her life around, Christiansen said, but Smith cheated her of that opportunity to find her way.

Smith, who moved to Alaska from South Africa, worked at a Midtown Anchorage hotel as a maintenance man. During his trial, the jury saw a video Smith made of torturing and killing Henry in a room at the hotel. In an interview with police, he admitted that he specifically targeted vulnerable women, who could be lured away with offers of alcohol, food or shelter. The Carrs grocery store on Gambell Street was one of his preferred spots to pick up women.

MMIP activists have offered two separate $500 rewards, one for information leading to the recovery of Cassandra Boskofsky’s remains and a second that asks for information leading to the arrest of Ian Calhoun, a man prosecutors said was a friend of Smith’s. In the sentencing memo, prosecutors said they believe Calhoun probably knew about one of the murders. So far, he has not been charged in the case.

A woman named Amber, who asked that only her first name be used for this story, stood in the back of the group of protesters. She said she once lived on the streets and could have easily been one of Smith’s victims. Amber also said she was friends with Henry and Boskofsky.

Amber is half Black and half Lingít and was raised mostly in Anchorage. She said she grew up marginalized and that she and her friends, including Henry and Boskofsky, shouldered the burdens of past traumas.

Their loss will be felt in small villages across the state and even by those who didn’t know them, because many families have loved ones who have disappeared, she said.

“Their story is my story. It’s their story. It’s a community story,” Amber said. “We put ourselves in some dangerous situations, especially those of us who are looking for love and acceptance.”

“And I come from that. I come from the streets,” she said. “It’s so easy to get into the wrong person’s vehicle, and you don’t even know it.”

Before Amber left the protest, she rubbed red paint on her hands and crossed the street to leave imprints on the police department’s glass doors, a reminder of Cassandra Boskofsky, she said, and of all the “missing sisters whose voices have been silenced.”

Just hours after President Joe Biden announced he would not seek reelection, Alaska Democratic Party leaders moved quickly to endorse Vice President Kamala Harris as the Democratic nominee for president. They also commended Biden for his endorsement of Harris.

State Sen. Bill Wielechowski, one of the Legislature’s senior Democrats, said Biden had hoped to recover from his poor debate performance — but in the end did what he thought was best for the country.

“This is really unchartered territory, and it takes a lot of courage, quite frankly,” Wielechowski said. “I give Joe Biden a tremendous, tremendous amount of support for what he did. I’m so impressed, because you don’t see it that often. You very rarely see it in politics.”

Wielechowski says he will support Harris’s nomination, because it opens the door to a new generation of leadership. He also believes it sets the stage for women to play a key role in defeating the Republican nominee, former president Donald Trump.

“I think this could be a real watershed moment in our country. We’ve never had a female president before. And I think there’s a very good chance that could happen this time around,” Wielechowski said. “And I’ve heard a lot of people say that there could be a female vice president selected as well.”

State Sen. Elvi Gray-Jackson, D-Anchorage, said she had hoped Biden would stay in the race. But she believes that of all the potential replacements, the vice president is the most prepared.

“I don’t think this is a surprise for her, because as vice president if something happens, you know, if something happens to the president, you’re next in line. Period,” Gray Jackson said. “She didn’t wake up, going, ‘Oh my goodness.’ But she’s going to work hard, and she’s going to have a lot of folks working hard to make this happen.”

As a prominent Black politician, Gray-Jackson she’s tired of hearing about how the country isn’t ready for a woman to be president, let alone a Black woman. But she predicts those arguments are not going to work this time around.

Another Black lawmaker, state Sen. Löki Tobin, D-Anchorage, will be going to Chicago as a delegate and a member of the convention’s standing rules committee.

Tobin said that although it will be an open convention in which other candidates can compete for the nomination, she believes Harris has the momentum.

She calls Biden’s decision to bow out of the race profound.

“His decision to support and endorse Kamala is such a bold and significant step in our nation, and leaves me in awe,” Tobin said. “There is just a beauty in recognizing that it’s time to make space, instead of taking space.”

Gray-Jackson and Wielechowski are also delegates to the national convention in Chicago this August.

The chairman of the Alaska Democratic Party, Mike Wenstrup, said in a statement that he believes Harris is the most capable of carrying on Biden’s legacy.

Wenstrup credited Biden and Harris for large infrastructure investments and policies that have benefited Alaska.

The chairman of the Alaska Republican Party also weighed in. In a statement, Carmela Warfield said Biden’s decision to end his campaign for president only confirms the party’s suspicion that he is unfit for office.

Warfield also said it doesn’t make any difference who becomes the Democratic nominee, because the candidate will advance the same “disastrous” policies championed by Biden.

The Anchorage judge sentencing convicted killer Brian Smith on Friday gave prosecutors exactly what they asked for: a 226-year sentence for the murders of two Alaska Native women.

Smith sat still, with no reaction, but the packed courtroom was charged with emotion.

Even before sentencing got underway, there was a demonstration outside the Nesbett Courthouse.

A group of mostly Native women, dressed in red, gathered outside, carrying signs that said, “Honk for justice,” and “We do not feel safe.”

“These are our sisters,” Sarah Wiseman said. “We have to look out for each other.”

Wiseman is related to Veronica Abouchuk, one of the women Smith was convicted of killing. The jury also found Smith guilty in the death of another woman, Kathleen Jo Henry. Both were from small western Alaska villages but struggled to survive in Anchorage. Smith told detectives he preyed upon them, because they were vulnerable.

Anchorage Superior Court Judge Kevin Saxby told the court he hopes the harsh sentence for Smith will be a deterrent.

“Some people come to Alaska because it’s an easy place to take advantage of people, people who live on the street,” he said.

Saxby recapped a series of videos that were played during the trial. They came from a cellphone, stolen from Smith by a sex worker. She copied the images, which Smith shot and narrated, and turned them over to police. They captured Kathleen Henry’s last moments at a Midtown hotel, as Smith tormented her.

“He says, quote, you’re alive and you die. And you’re alive and you die,” said the judge, as he read from the video transcript. “So, I guess I need to stop this because the blood is getting to the floor.”

Only the jury saw the video, but the whole courtroom heard the sound of Smith’s voice, as he said, “You live. You die,” while pressing his fingers on and off Henry’s throat.

The judge’s description of the footage brought sobs from Veronica Abouchuk’s family, who were invited to sit together in a large group inside the jury box.

Abouchuk’s daughter, Kristy Grimaldi, told the court that, since the trial, it’s as if a heavy fog descended on her life, but there are times when she remembers her mother’s full-hearted laughter — and moments, like the other day, when a store clerk gave her two quarters for change. One had her birthdate, and the other, her mother’s.

“It was an insignificant moment that became significant to me,” Grimaldi said. “I feel her all around me, watching over me. No one can take that away. This experience has taught me so much and has shown me that true love never dies.”

She told the court Brian Smith was a sick human being, unable to comprehend the meaning of life.

“Forget the defendant’s name,” Grimaldi said, “and remember Veronica Rosaline Abouchuk and Kathleen Jo Henry.”

Abouchuk’s sister, Rena Sapp, said the sentencing brings relief for now, but worries about what may come next for other families. She believes Smith had more victims.

“It’s not done. This is not the end for Brian Smith. There are more,” she said.

Smith did not speak at his sentencing. Although his wife, Stephanie Bissland, sat in a gallery bench directly behind him, he did not turn around to look at her. His attorney Timothy Ayer pushed for a 132-year sentence, about a hundred years less than what he received. He said either way, Smith would spend the rest of his life in prison.

Outside the courthouse, before the sentencing, there was a large poster-sized sketch of a woman who appears to be an Alaska Native, believed to be Brian Smith’s third victim. Police found her photos on another one of his cell phones. She looks battered in the pictures, and it isn’t clear if she’s alive. The woman has yet to be identified, a reminder that there are likely more chapters to come.

“It was absolutely horrific. That man is a monster,” said D. Matt Duncan, who was one of the jurors.

Duncan said he currently sees a therapist to help him cope with what he saw and heard during the trial, but said it was an honor to serve on the jury. He said Alaska has a serious problem, and he hopes the case will open people’s eyes.

Duncan said it’s alarming that Smith felt safe enough to brag about his killings to a girlfriend and appeared to have tried to show off Kathleen Henry’s body to another friend.

“I am very confident that there was a community of people that are involved in that behavior that Brian Smith is convicted for,” Duncan said. “And they are preying on defenseless women in our community. That needs to change.”

Another juror, Michael Stewart, also attended the sentencing. He said he’s glad the judge, rather than just throwing the book at Smith, “threw a pallet full of encyclopedias.”

Both Stewart and Duncan sat together in the courtroom to watch the sentencing. Stewart said what he experienced during the trial was unspeakable.

“It’s burned into my head. It’s hard to watch crime dramas now,” he said.

Both jurors say they wish police would have acted sooner on leads in the case.

“Brian Smith’s girlfriend, Alicia Youngblood, reported him to police years before the police did anything,” Duncan said. “If it wasn’t for dumb luck, he would still be out there murdering women.”

Duncan also believes that Smith’s friend, Ian Calhoun, should be brought to justice. The prosecution said Smith tried to meet Calhoun at a park near his home, presumably to show off Kathleen Henry’s body. In the state’s sentencing recommendations, attorneys said, they believe it’s likely Calhoun saw Henry’s remains, but so far, he hasn’t been charged. Calhoun was not compelled to testify during the trial.

Brittany Dunlop, the lead prosecutor in the case, said it may not seem like police are working to pursue a case, because a lot of work goes on behind the scenes and police are limited in what they can say about an ongoing investigation. During the trial, the jury saw massive amounts of cellphone and satellite data to connect Smith to the killings of Abouchuk and Henry. At the sentencing she called Smith truly evil, someone who should never be permitted “to walk among us.”

The Anchorage police’s big break in the case came from Valerie Casler, the sex worker who stole Smith’s phone. The images on it gave police the evidence they needed to make an arrest.

“What she did, and the danger that she put herself in — and is still in danger today — is absolutely heroic,” Duncan said.

Stewart and Duncan say the jurors discussed amongst themselves how Smith has likely killed more women. But thanks, in large part to Casler, Smith has been stopped.

Stewart said he hopes lessons from the trial will “open up the floodgates for more justice.”

One of the bills that crossed the finish line in the final hours of the Alaska Legislature is what advocates for missing and murdered Indigenous people call a major milestone.

The bill was launched by Sen. Donny Olson, an Inupiaq and a Democrat from Golovin, but it was Rep. C.J. McCormick who shepherded the bill in the House.

“I want to be sure that I convey this epidemic is impacting every region of the state. Urban. Rural. And in between,” said McCormick, a Democrat from Bethel, who told lawmakers Senate Bill 151 will help address the crisis of missing and murdered Alaska Natives.

McCormick told lawmakers that the issue is personal to him and more than a list of unsolved cases.

“There’s individuals that I went to school with. Unfortunately, my staffer who helped work on this bill, has family members that are part of these lists as well,” McCormick said. “I’m sure that members of this body, who even have family members, that are part of this list.”

Alaska has the fourth highest rate of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in the nation, and Anchorage is third highest among cities. The bill aims to reduce these numbers by requiring the Department of Public Safety to:

• Hire two permanent MMIP investigators to focus on unsolved cases.
• Offer police training that includes cultural education.
• Conduct a one-time needs assessment to identify ways to provide more resources for identifying and reporting MMIP cases within the state criminal justice system. DPS must include tribes and other Alaska Native organizations in the process.
• Report MMIP cases to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System (NAM-US) database, if a person has not been located within 60 days of the initial report.

Work with a new nine-member commission to review unresolved MMIP cases statewide.

“For advocates and families, this is a huge moment for us,” said Charlene Apok, director of Data for Indigenous Justice.

Apok said it took years of effort to achieve these policies, and the passage of the bill is astounding, when you consider that only a few years ago, it was a struggle for advocates to get state leaders to meet with them to discuss the MMIP crisis.

But today, Apok says there’s a broad-based coalition of state lawmakers and other officials who helped to champion the bill.

She said she’s even more pleased to see that Alaska Natives gained their support by tapping into their traditional values to build relationships and using the power of storytelling to get their message across.

“And as we carried those stories, collected the data, and said it, over and over and over again, and then we have our collective voices, that’s the power of that,” Apok said. “A collective truth that cannot be denied.”

Apok says with strong relationships in place, the bill’s provisions will have a better chance of success, but there’s still a lot of work ahead to bring about lasting change.

The bill did not pass unanimously. Rep. David Eastman, a Wasilla Republican, cast the lone no vote. He questioned the need for cultural training and said he’s concerned the bill might place additional burdens on police.

Valerie Nurr’araaluk Davidson was not only head of one of the largest tribal health organizations in the nation, but also recognized as a trailblazer in Native health care. But Davidson is no longer president and CEO of the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium.

In a statement on its website, ANTHC announced she had left the organization, but gave no explanation why, other than to say she was “transitioning” out of the job that oversees more than 3,000 workers. ANTHC is Alaska’s second largest health employer.

The news is puzzling to those familiar with Davidson’s track record, who call her departure shocking in that it was so sudden and abrupt.

The news traveled fast to her old boss, former Gov. Bill Walker, who is on a trip to London. Walker said he’s both surprised and dismayed.

“It’s just such an awkward situation, I’ll put it that way, because she’s so gifted,” said Walker, who initially tapped Davidson to be his Health and Social Services commissioner.

Walker said she successfully led the Alaska’s push to expand Medicaid, which saved the state millions.

“I witnessed her literally move mountains on health care issues that benefited Alaska,” Walker said. “There’s nothing she wouldn’t do, if it helped provide health care in Alaska.”

Davidson, who is Yup’ik and raised in Southwest Alaska, was known as the “Kuspuk Commissioner,” because she dressed in kuspuks, a traditional Yup’ik overshirt. Davidson’s colorful kuspuks were usually handsewn by family and friends. The bright patterns made her stand out in the governor’s office and the halls of the state Capitol, as well as her jokes about how the big pockets in kuspuks are useful for carrying things like baby diapers.

Davidson’s trademark humor masked her skills as a savvy lawyer and negotiator, who helped tribal organizations win battles in Congress.

Walker later tapped Davidson to serve as his lieutenant governor, after Byron Mallott resigned in a scandal.

It was a similar scenario when Davidson took over the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium, after its president, Andy Teuber, disappeared in a solo helicopter crash in March 2021. Teuber’s fatal flight came just as accusations of sexual harassment were about to emerge.

While the statement from the tribal consortium gives no reasons for the decision to replace Davidson, it heaps praise upon her for guiding the organization through what it described as a “leadership crisis.”

In the statement, the consortium’s Board of Directors credited Davidson with numerous successes during her watch, which included major investments and meaningful improvements that supported what it called the “remarkable transformation of the organization.”

Gary Ferguson, a former colleague of Davidson’s, said she’s one of a kind.

“She has been a solid leader wherever she’s gone,” Ferguson said, “and has been a changemaker.”

Ferguson is an Unangan, who currently works as a researcher at Washington State. He’s a licensed naturopathic doctor, who spent 10 years at ANTHC, when Davidson served as the consortium’s attorney.

Ferguson said he has long admired her integrity and passion for bringing traditional Native values to health care.

“Val has been a pioneer, speaking her truth,” Ferguson said, “which I think is very difficult to do in those high-level positions.”

Ferguson said the health consortium has “an incredible mission and does incredible work, but also has an incredibly challenging environment” that pits Native values against the bottom line. Ferguson believes this constant tension has led to high executive turnover.

“There’s a lot of political pressure. There are a lot of regions and peoples to serve, some of which have more resources than others,” Ferguson said. “So delivering health care equity across the state can be challenging.”

Those challenges now fall to Natasha Singh who, like Davidson, is a lawyer — also with a reputation as a tribal government changemaker. Singh has taken over as interim president and CEO.

According to the ProPublica Non-profit Explorer database, which looked at tax forms for the 2012-2022 fiscal year, the statewide tribal health organization had revenues of almost $840 million. It listed Davidson’s salary at $806,000.

Repeated requests for comment from ANTHC, Davidson and Singh were not returned. For now, the political undercurrents of this change in leadership remain unclear.

Now that the North American Indigenous Games Council has approved Arctic sports on a trial basis for its 2027 games in Calgary, fans of Native Youth Olympics believe there’s good chance the games might get a foothold in the Lower 48.

Kyle Worl, the head coach for Juneau’s NYO program, took a team of six athletes on a tour of schools in New Mexico and Kansas to promote Arctic sports. He says the were well received.

“Every school and community we’ve gone to, they’ve been very engaged,” Worl said, “and it’s just been fun.”

The team was in Lawrence, Kansas on Friday at the Haskell Indian Nations University. They demonstrated seven games, including the One-Foot and Two-Foot High Kick, the Alaskan High Kick, Scissor Broad Jump, Seal Hop, and the Inuit and Dene Stick Pulls.

Worl says the students were very interested in the stories behind the games and their connection to Arctic survival.

“I think this sport really resonates with Indigenous people, because it’s an Indigenous sport and it’s about community.” Worl said. “And I think all tribes know that community is really important.”

Worl says he’s hopeful the sport can take root at Haskell, which has two Alaskan students who can help with the coaching. The team also left behind a kit with equipment that includes a kick stand, a hand-sewn sealskin ball and three types of sticks. Worl says the Calgary games will take place four years from now, which gives new teams plenty of time to train for NYO games.

He says it’s important for teams outside Alaska to compete in the North American Indigenous Games, so Arctic sports can become an official sport.

The Juneau athletes also traveled to the nearby Kickapoo Nation School to plant some seeds among kids who are not yet in college. Worl says the Juneau NYO team gave them a chance to try out the games for themselves, which they seemed to enjoy.

“To be able to be in a space where your Indigenous identity is represented and honored,” he said, “you feel a sense of belonging —and that you don’t have to shy away from who you are.”

The Juneau NYO team also traveled to New Mexico to visit the Santa Clara Pueblo Tribal school, the Santa Fe Indian School, and the Institute of American Indian Art. They returned to Juneau on Saturday, where they will jump right into preparations for next month’s Traditional Games.

This is Southeast Alaska’s seventh annual competition, relatively new to the region compared to other parts of the state. But Worl says their popularity has spread quickly, starting first in Juneau and eventually including ten other Southeast communities. Worl says the students from the Haskell Indian Nations University are planning to attend.

The tour was sponsored by Sealaska Heritage Institute and the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indians Tribes of Alaska.