I made a quick phone call after a friend texted that Anchorage had just been hit by a major earthquake. The adoptive mother of our grandchild answered the phone. “Is everyone okay?” I asked. “Yes,” she calmly replied. “Paul was driving to daycare and thought the wheels were falling off his truck,” she added with a little chuckle.

I am not from Alaska, though my wife and I occasionally visit our grandchild, hike in the wilderness, or give speeches about how I climbed North America’s highest mountain, Denali, with an amputated leg. I have learned this about Alaska: the people are strong. They are strong in body, mind, heart, and community. This is obvious when you compare how news stories about natural disasters are told in Alaska as opposed to similar coverage around the lower forty-eight. Alaskans report stories using the best available information and include no sensationalism.   It’s not about the news reporter or their news channel – it’s about their neighbors, friends, and family.

Alaska is a small town in a big state. You are always a person or two away from any connection you need. Last spring while visiting Juneau, I pulled into a circular driveway to take a photo of a particularly interesting totem pole in the resident’s yard. The home’s occupant pulled in behind me and walked over to see if he could help.  We ended up having a wonderful conversation and got some ‘selfies’ together.  This “resident” turned out to be Governor Bill Walker. But from the governor’s mansion to shacks in the wilderness, I’ve met men, women, and children with hearts much bigger than their state.

Yet, Alaskans can be fiercely independent.

They know that to survive in the harsh realities of their environment they must be strong independently and as a community, a community that includes their own as well as those who are strangers. It is a lesson that many have forgotten, and many more in this day and age are never learning. I think we can all learn something from the people of Alaska.