Alaska Native Arts & Culture

Juneau police believe they have a suspect in connection with a racial incident that marred the parade at the end of last month’s Alaska Native Celebration festival.

The Michigan man also is being investigated by the Secret Service and is wanted in Hawaii for threatening people.

Alexander Logan Libbrecht, 32, is being held on $25,000 bail in Lemon Creek Correctional Center on charges of fourth-degree assault.

Juneau Police Lt. Kris Sell says Libbrecht yelled racist slurs and threatened a black woman last week on Gold Street.

“He didn’t access a weapon or touch her, she was in fear based on the fact that he was calling her the ‘N’ word and saying he was going to bash her head in, and he’s in a rage walking up and down the street,” Sell says. “She was very frightened.”

Libbrecht’s behavior was similar to that of a man who allegedly yelled racist slurs during the June 14 Celebration parade, grabbed an American flag carried by an Alaska Native veteran, then ran, shoving people in his way, even knocking a woman down.

“We are working with some photo line ups with witnesses to that. Also his behavior is very consistent with what happened at Celebration,” she says.

Police believe he was the same man that knocked over Main Street traffic barricades just before the flag incident.

It’s not clear how long Libbrecht has been in Juneau, or why he came here. On June 26^th, the U.S. Secret Service asked JPD for assistance in contacting him for an interview regarding threats he made against President Barack Obama as well as a New Jersey attorney. Lt. Sell says the threats were left in voice mails during telephone calls made from Juneau to the New Jersey attorney.

“Mr. Libbrecht was interviewed about a couple of things – first his threats against the president of the United States and also his threats to kill an attorney in New Jersey, who had previously represented Libbrecht in a different case. He threatened to stab and kill that attorney along with the attorney’s wife,” she says.

Libbrecht was arraigned in Juneau Superior Court late last week for the Gold Street incident.

“The Secret Service agent testified telephonically in court that the first interview was with Mr. Libbrecht in 2010. There was a subsequent interview, I believe, in 2012, then this most recent interview,” Sell says.

She says police have no indication that Libbrecht has ever gotten close to the president.

Libbrecht also is wanted in Hawaii on charges of terroristic threatening.

“The charges in Hawaii stem from an incident where he threw large rocks at people on a beach, ultimately clearing that beach of people who were recreating there,” she says.

JPD investigators knew about the Hawaii charges when they started investigating  Libbrecht for the Celebration incident.

Hawaii court records indicate Libbrecht was arrested last October, held on $9,000 bail then released when bail was paid by a family member. The court ordered a mental evaluation, the results of which were not part of the accessible record.

According to court records, the prosecutor in that case had to get a stalking protective order against Libbrecht, because he threatened her.

After he failed to appear for a hearing in March, a judge issued a $100,000 bench warrant, meaning if he were to be arrested again in Hawaii, bail would be set at $100,000.

JPD Lt. Sell says she believes Libbrecht is dangerous. In addition to $25,000 bail set in the Juneau case, he can be released only to a third-party custodian.

Fish camp is an annual tradition going back thousands of years for Yup’ik people living along the Kuskokwim River. But fishing restrictions this year, have hit many families hard.

Iyana Dull prepares to visit fish camps downriver from Bethel.

“We’re heading down river to the village of Napaskiak. And they rely heavily on the salmon and hopefully they’re getting their needs met. And that’s what we’re gonna go find out,” said Iyana Dull.

The 28-year-old Alaska Native is a fisheries technician for Bethel’s tribe, ONC. He asks people about their subsistence needs and run timings are for kings, chums and sockeye salmon.

The information Dull gathers is reported to the Kuskokwim Salmon Working Group, which is helping federal and state biologists manage the fishery. This year, they say surveys are hard to get because people are angry about restrictions. Many won’t talk with them. Just outside Napaskiak, at a simple camp with alder drying racks, elder Sophie Jenkins agrees to take a survey. She says restrictions are traumatizing.

“I looked up genocide and it says like this – people make policies and where people have no say with the law, with the policies and rules and regulations. (Daysha: And how does that make you feel?) I’m very familiar with oppression and you know trauma and that’s how I feel right now,” said Jenkins.

After 2013 showed the weakest King salmon run on record managers of the Kuskokwim River fishery are not allowing directed king salmon fishing. That means the 8-inch mesh nets, that were introduced by the commercial fishery in the 50s and 60’s, and have become commonplace in YK Delta households, have been banned completely.

Instead fishers have been limited to short, 4-inch mesh set nets. They’re much less productive and many fishermen don’t own them. Some say purchasing the net is too expensive.

Now, it’s late in the fishing season and managers have been allowing short openings with 6-inch gear for chum and sockeye salmon.

Jenkins, ordered the six-inch net, but she says she could not find one in Alaska. They were sold out, so she ordered one from a company in Tennessee.

“And I’m still waiting. It’s been a week and I know there was fishing yesterday and I was so depressed. I don’t have anything hanging,” said Jenkins.

Residents along the Kuskokwim say the restrictions have created haves and have-nots. In nearby Oscarville Slough, Arvin Dull, the uncle of the fisheries technician is having better luck. His fish rack and smoke house are full of glistening red salmon. A former bank manager from Bethel, Dull had the cash to buy the net required this year.

And a lot of people don’t have jobs and were unable to buy the nets. Some people can’t even afford a sixty-foot white fish net. (Daysha: How much does that cost?) About $300 dollars, said Arvin Dull.

His nephew says he sees why people are upset, but he also worries about extinction.

“They’d like to open the big king, king net gear so they can target more kings and get more kings on the rack. You know, they’re so used to seeing the fish return that they think no matter how hard they fish that they’ll always come back but that’s not true,” said Iyana Dull.

At the time this story was filed, Elder Sophie Jenkins was still waiting for her net to arrive. If it comes in time she says she hopes to get some fish on her rack. She says getting chum and reds is good, but they miss their kings.

Sealaska holds its annual shareholders’ meeting Saturday near Seattle. A new CEO will take over, as will a new board chairman or woman. And, at least one new board member will be seated.

All will face the challenges of a new economic reality. The Juneau-based regional Native corporation has been losing money and plans for recovery are somewhat uncertain.

Sealaska recently told its about 22,000 shareholders about its financial problems.

The corporation’s annual report showed operational losses of about $57 million last year. Revenues from investments and other sources brought that down around $35 million, but it’s still a lot of money.

Outgoing CEO Chris McNeil Jr. says Sealaska is doing fine. It has a three-point plan to bounce back.

“One, of course, is achieving our land entitlement before Congress. The second is making one or more highly profitable acquisitions in 2015. And then also, it would have to significantly increase its federal contracting with higher margins.”

The first is controversial federal legislation turning 70,000 to 80,000 acres of Tongass National Forest timberland over to the corporation.

It’s stalled in Congress. But if it’s passed, it will allow Sealaska to reinvigorate its shrunken logging subsidiary, once the corporation’s economic powerhouse.

Rick Harris is executive vice president of the corporation.

“We will be effectively running out of timber by the end of this year or sometime early in 2015,” Harris says.

Some of the targeted timberlands have high-value, old-growth forest. Others have, or will have, second- or young- growth trees big enough to fell and sell.

Harris says Sealaska is developing markets for those smaller trees, which already make up a fifth of timber sales.

“We’re working with the customer, we’re working with them to identify the supply we have, both for mature timber and second growth. And then helping build a plan, with our customers, so we will be able to supply their needs and that they have the mills that are capable of handling the type of wood that we can deliver,” Harris says.

Carlton Smith is one of four business-oriented shareholders running for the board as a slate.

“The board has struggled with replacing timber income. And we’ve had 20 years to plan for this,” Smith says.

He says Sealaska would do better getting involved in Alaska’s oil and gas industry and helping shareholders find employment there.

One way, he says, is to join other Native corporations campaigning against repealing the state’s oil and gas tax structure.

“We need to make a commitment to the future of Sealaska’s involvement in Alaska commerce. And that takes place in Anchorage,” Smith says.

Smith wants the corporation to open an office in the state’s largest city.

Karen Taug, another member of the shareholders slate, says it’s time to close or at least move Sealaska’s office in Bellevue, Wash. That’s the home of several subsidiaries, as well as the CEO’s main office.

“They could very well pay rent somewhere else at a much cheaper rate, rather than in a high-rent area of Bellevue. Q: Does it seem to you that that was created so Chris McNeil could live and work down south? A: Yes,” Taug says.

Corporate officials won’t give many details of the second part of their recovery plan, to buy one or several new, profitable business. That’s because it’s still being developed.

But McNeil says they’re considering areas that could employ shareholders in Southeast Alaska or the Pacific Northwest.

“We’ve taken another look and will continue to look in the fisheries sectors,” McNeil says.

Other areas include organic foods and expanded mariculture.

Sealaska’s already backing small, tribally-owned oyster farms. VP Harris says it creates businesses that take a realistic approach to village employment.

“Jobs that are the kind of thing people that want to do. And it’s consistent with the way they live their lives, instead of us coming and saying you have to change the way you live in order to have a job. We’re saying, let’s create jobs that meet your needs,” Harris says.

Shellfish farming is part of Sealaska’s Haa Aani division, which focuses on job development within Southeast.

But Smith and some other critics say that’s not where to look if you’re trying to boost corporate profits.

“I don’t know how a company that’s not making money by itself can be generating economic development elsewhere. And even though it theoretically does touch the lives of our shareholders, it certainly would not be the No. 1 priority at the moment,” Smith says.

Corporate officials say Sealaska needs to try to get more leverage out of government contracting.

But contracting is part of the corporation’s problems. About $26 million was lost when that subsidiary badly underestimated two federal construction projects in Hawaii.

The independent slate’s Ross Soboleff also wants to lower costs by reducing pay and bonuses for board members and top managers.

“My personal opinion about the board compensation now is it’s high. And when the top levels of your company tighten their belts and cut their own expenses, it sets a very important precedent and the tone of the company,” Soboleff says.

Soboleff, Taug and Smith are three of 13 candidates running for Sealaska’s board. Their slate also has a fourth member, Margaret Nelson.

Three board incumbents are seeking re-election: Sidney Edenshaw, Ed Thomas and Rosita Worl.

Other candidates running independently are Myrna Gardner, Mick Beasley, Michelle McConkey, Will Micklin, Edward Sarabia Jr. and Ralph Wolfe.

CEO McNeil will officially retire at the annual meeting. Treasurer and chief investment officer Anthony Mallott will take his place.

A federal trial is underway to determine whether the State of Alaska does enough to serve voters who speak Native languages.

Toyukuk v. Treadwell was brought by two Alaska Native voters, along with two tribal councils. Natalie Landreth, an attorney with the Native American Rights Fund, is arguing the case. She says there’s a “huge amount” of voting information available to people who speak English, Spanish, and Tagalog, compared to the amount of materials for speakers of Yup’ik and Gwich’in. Landreth says the disparity amounts to discrimination.

“It’s not an impossible task. You hear that it’s more complicated than the defendants would like it to be, but it’s not impossible. It’s very practical,” says Landreth. “They’re choosing not to do it.”

The state is defending against that charge, arguing that the Division of Elections does want Native voters to be enfranchised but there are unique obstacles to serving some populations in the state. Assistant Attorney General Libby Bakalar notes there are only 300 speakers of Gwich’in who are capable of doing translating work for the state, and until recently the state had to clear many of its policies with the Federal Department of Justice.

“These aren’t some sort of excuses for not doing a good job,” says Bakalar. “The Division does everything it can with the resources that it has.”

The trial will last for eight days, with each side having four days to present witnesses before District Judge Sharon Gleason. The first witnesses were called by the plaintiffs, and they pointed out situations where voting materials had low readability scores. They also brought up examples of ballot measures being mistranslated, noting that in the case of a 2012 initiative that described managing coastal areas as “playing by the beach.”

Hot canola oil pangs off a stainless steel tub under the watch of a local fry bread master. Some people say it’s magic that turns a hand-stretched disc of dough into a puffy — but-not-too-puffy — piece of golden, delicious fry bread.

Fry bread, that high calorie treat that can go savory or sweet, has generations of history in many Alaska Native families, where the untraditional food has become a cultural fixture.

Garfield Katasse is the big guy under the tent by the Garfield’s Famous Fry Bread banner. On days like this during a big Native cultural convention, Katasse spends hours on his feet, patiently working the dough and frying it up piece after piece after piece.

He goes through 175 pounds of dough a day, all mixed by hand.

“You know, my day starts (at) 4 o’clock in the morning, and doesn’t end ‘til 10:30 at night,” Katasse says. “Because I have to run around and get all my ingredients and get ready for the next day.”

There’s a funny squeal coming from the headphones Katasse wears, plugged into a gadget clipped to the collar of his hoodie. He’s got severe hearing loss, and it helps him get by.

He says his disability makes it tough for him to work a regular job, but it also lets him travel and sell fry bread to thousands during events and festivals. Katasse has been setting up shop in the Juneau and Anchorage areas for about a decade. He grew up in Juneau, but lives in Albuquerque and Anchorage most of the year.

Even without four walls or a roof over his business, he’s become a local institution.

Carmen Plunkett, who’s from Juneau but now lives in California, was carefully packaging up eight pieces of the plate-sized treats.

“We love our fry bread, as you can tell,” Plunkett says. “I now take it back and I freeze’em, take it back and I can have’em later. Cause there’s no — I can’t cook it myself.”

The fry bread she can buy in California just isn’t the same.

Even in the rain, Katasse’s customers keep queuing up in the parking lot where he’s set up for a few days.

“I love Garfield’s fried bread. He does the best fry bread,” says Bettyann Boyd.

By the end of Katasse’s first week in town, she’d eaten four pieces.

“It’s light and it’s big, and he always has good conversation while you’re getting it,” she says with a cheery chuckle.

Boyd, Plunkett and many others in line are Tlingit. They remember their first time eating fry bread made by their parents and grandparents when they were young children.

And yet, Smithsonian Magazine and popular lore attribute fry bread’s origins to the Navajo. Katasse, who’s Tlingit but spent a lot of his adult life in the Southwest, says his recipe came from a Pueblo friend. Sometimes, he sells fry bread topped with Mexican ingredients as an “Indian taco,” though he personally enjoys it with salmon and green chili.

Many Native American groups around the country have variations of fry bread. How it’s come to be so closely associated with Alaska Native cultures is a bit of mystery.

Boyd says she doesn’t know much about its history in Alaska.

“I just know it brings a lot of people together,” she says.

Plunkett says she never thought about it.

“I never questioned it because it was part of our, you know, what we ate,” Plunkett says. “Now, you have me questioning it.”

Dwayne Lewis, a Navajo and owner of the restaurant Sacred Hogan Navajo Frybread in Phoenix, says he doesn’t have any theories about how it got to Alaska. He remembers his grandma saying fry bread was first created when the government was rationing food to the Navajo.

Like matzah is a symbol of Jewish persecution, Navajo fry bread has a lot of history, symbolism and emotion kneaded into it.

In the 1860s, the U.S. government forced the Navajo and other Southwest Native American groups to relocate to a doomed settlement called Bosque Redondo Indian Reservation. Traditional foods grew poorly there. Starvation led the government to provide canned goods, flour, sugar and lard, which led to fry bread.

For Katasse’s customers in Alaska, fry bread doesn’t appear to have that baggage. Darrin Austin doesn’t have a trace of ambivalence while he eats.

“Pretty good, I like how he makes them big, too. Has that big tub,” Austin says between bites. “Sweet, you got sugar on there, the butter, you know, it’s buttery. And it’s crispy, fresh out of the oil.”

Katasse keeps his recipe under wraps, but does share one key additive.

“I say my prayers … every time I do 10 pounds of dough, for everybody that walks across my booth, buys bread, that they would be blessed and nourished,” Katasse says.

When people ask him, “What’s your secret?” he says that’s it.

“There’s no magic about this,” he says.

Sealaska Heritage Institute raised more than $75,000 last week during Celebration for the Walter Soboleff Center under construction in downtown Juneau.

The nonprofit is about $2 million short of the $20 million it needs to pay for the building, which will house the institute’s offices and collections. It also will feature space for SHI’s language program, art exhibits and an artist-in-residence program.

The 29,000 square foot facility is expected to open by early 2015.

“This will help Juneau become the new Northwest coast art capital of the world,” said Sealaska Corp. board chair Albert Kookesh, who led a fundraising pitch from the Celebration stage on Saturday.

Kookesh accepted a $50,000 check from Wells Fargo Bank for the Soboleff Center project. Sealaska shareholder Rod Worl and his wife, Dawn Dinwoodie, donated $25,000, and a handful of individuals gave gifts of a few hundred dollars each.

Sealaska Heritage Institute President Rosita Worl, Rod’s mother, said hundreds of Sealaska shareholders have supported the project to date.

“The most important donors have been our own people,” Worl said.

She also thanked several other donors, including the state of Alaska and City and Borough of Juneau, which are financing about half the project.

The center is named for the late Dr. Walter Soboleff, a Tlingit spiritual leader and educator who passed away in 2011.

Celebration attracted thousands of Southeast Alaska Natives from around the state, country and Canada. Sealaska says it is committed to Celebration for generations to come.