Nonprofit tribal organization Sealaska Heritage Institute has published a new book that presents Tlingit Raven stories for the first time in the original language with English translations.

The 860-page volume brings together 50 stories by seven Tlingit storytellers born between 1870 and 1915 across Southeast Alaska. The stories were transcribed from recordings of oral performances and include some of the oldest known recordings of these stories told in Lingít.

75-year-old Ḵ’ashgé Daphne Wright grew up listening to her aunt, Katherine Mills, tell her stories of Raven, a cultural hero, world-maker, and trickster figure among the Tlingit of Southeast Alaska.

“I can just remember we’d be sitting in the kitchen, around the kitchen table, and it was maybe in the evening, with everyone just kind of sitting around and just listening,” Wright said. “[It was] kind of a warm feeling, just listening to my aunt’s voice.”

Growing up, Wright spent school years in Juneau and summers with her family in Excursion Inlet, a cannery near Hoonah. Her mom and aunt spoke Lingít with her grandmother, but she says she and her sisters and cousins never learned. 

Wright says reading this book, which features stories from her aunt who was born in 1915 and died in 1993, is like hearing her aunt’s voice again. 

“I miss her so much, and I miss my mother,” she said. “They were fluent speakers. They were the generation that went to school and didn’t know English. And so they suffered. They suffered greatly. That was the reason why their kids grew up not speaking. And we never thought about it. We never said, ‘Teach us Lingít.’ We were just kids. We just ran around. And so it just means so much that there’s something here and an actual physical book that has her stories in it.”

This volume has been more than four decades in the making. It’s the fifth in a series of books from Sealaska Heritage Institute called the Classics of Tlingit Oral Literature, and is the first in the series to be exclusively focused on Raven.

Will Geiger is a research specialist with the Southeast nonprofit, and has been working on transcribing, translating, and editing the stories for this volume since 2017.

“The intention of this series is to present standout examples of the Tlingit oral tradition in a written form that gives them a pretty high level and serious treatment, so that people, whether you do speak Lingít or not, you’re able to appreciate the depth and the artistry and the history and the richness of ideas that have been carried through the Tlingit oral tradition,” Geiger said.

This book features a transcribed version of the original recording on the left hand page that tries to reflect exactly what was said and the rhythm in which it was said. Featured on the facing right hand page, there’s an English translation. 

Geiger says Raven is probably the most highly developed character in the Tlingit oral tradition, with stories ranging “from the sacred to the scatological.” In one story of Raven, he steals the sun, moon, and stars to bring light to the world. In another, Raven loses his eyeballs after removing them from his head and instructing them to watch guard for him. He fails to act on their warning that people are coming near and the eyes are taken away, so Raven makes do by placing blueberries in his eye sockets.

“Mostly, he appears in the form of a person,” Geiger said. “And he can change forms. At minimum, he’s a little rock, a person. He puts on the skin of this kind of snipe-like bird with a long bill, and flies around like that. He turns into a woman, a little hemlock needle. Oh, and a raven. He turns into a raven too.”

Geiger says while there’s a long paper trail of writings about Raven, up until this book, they’ve all been in English, with the exception of a paperback from the 1970s from Tlingit Readers, Inc. that was published only in Lingít to be used by those who already spoke and understood the language. 

“That is the one text I believe in all of history until this one, to actually reflect a Lingít Raven story as told in Lingít by a Tlingit person,” he said.

For Lgeik’i Heather Powell Mills, a Lingít language teacher in Hoonah, hearing or reading these stories in the original language leads to deeper understanding. And now, she says, people will get to experience these stories from the mouths of their elders long gone, with the same cadence and the same emotion.  

“Hearing our language is like medicine to us,” she said. “And hearing the stories of creation helps us to better understand and explain to our children how important it is to coexist with the animals, to have a strong connection to the land, to understand where you come from, in order to know where you’re going.”

Mills’ great grandmother Susie James and her husband’s grandmother Katherine Mills are both included in the book. She says throughout her life, she’s seen many drafts, and she’s grateful people spent the time to sit down and record their elders’ stories so that they can be shared for generations to come.

“We don’t have the time we used to have to spend the winters together, sitting and transferring that knowledge,” Mills said. “I think this is a great way for us to learn, and to be able to not only learn with these wonderful, ancient ways of being, but learn through our language. It was their dream for us.”

The book, Yéil Kundayaayí, Adventures of Raven, is currently available through Sealaska Heritage Institute’s website. Geiger says they also hope to make the original audio recordings of these stories available in the near future. 

Murkowski strongly urges Alaskans to make their voices heard on the new Tongass plan that’s being created for the next 15 years. The public comment period ends on May 6th. Many environmentalists and organizations have critiqued the proposed land management plan. They say it gives minimal attention to commercial fishing and cultural subsistence practices, while placing heavy emphasis on logging and large-scale tourism development.

“You have an administration in play right now who is very, very aggressive, leaning into resource development, including on the timber harvest and management side,” says Murkowski. “We get that, but we also recognize that the Tongass is a multiple use forest. Always has been, always will be. And so we need to hear from not only those that are speaking on the cultural and the subsistence side, but on the tourism side, all the other activities that go on within the Tongass.”

Additionally, the planned relocation of the U.S. Forest Service’s national office to Salt Lake City has also raised environmental concerns and how it could potentially result in the relocation of an already minimized workforce in Alaska. Murkowski says that she anticipates Alaska to be “untouched” by the change. However, she says she is continuing to closely monitor the situation, as there are still some areas of uncertainty. They don’t know which positions would be relocated, and what that would mean for the science office in Juneau.

“I think it’s really important that we retain this office and the people so this effort to try to get more forest service folks out of Washington, DC, into the West [continues],” says Murkowski. “I think we’re asking the right questions. I think the jury is still out in terms of whether or not we’re getting the answers that we need in order to do the work.” 

Another regional hot topic is funding for the Alaska Marine Highway System. Murkowski helped steer over $700 million to Alaska’s ferry system through the bipartisan Infrastructure Act under the Biden administration. In her annual address to the state legislature, Murkowski said that she was “very disappointed” with the Alaska government’s management of the federal funding. While she says she is moving forward with various initiatives to secure more funding, Murkowski says nothing’s guaranteed. 

“I’m trying to be confident with all things…But it’s a $78 million hole. That’s substantial,” says Murkowski. “I want to make sure that what we have is a marine highway system that is standing on its own. That the state of Alaska has made a commitment towards… It is the Alaska Marine Highway System. It is not the Federal Marine Highway System.”

Additionally, the Trump administration’s attacks on DEI initiatives have drawn scrutiny over the qualifications for the Section 8(a) program, which impacts small businesses and Alaska Native Corporations. However, Murkowski says there is bipartisan support for the program, which she says has been hugely beneficial for Alaska. 

“The delegation has been very united on recognizing that when this program was created many decades ago, it was to not only provide economic empowerment, it was really designed to help fulfill one of the promises under [the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act] in terms of self determination,” says Murkowski. “And so I think part of this is just a failure to fully understand what that means and why it was established in the first place.”

Outmigration is an increasing concern in Southeast Alaska, with roughly 24% of all Alaskan workers living outside the state. Murkowski says that retaining Alaskan residents is of the upmost importance to her as a senator and a mother, with one of her sons living outside of Alaska due to the perceived lack of opportunity. However, Murkowski says she is highly optimistic about the growing unique professional opportunities and lifestyle benefits that Alaska has to offer. 

“There is a lot of cool stuff that is going on that should be exciting for young people, but excitement doesn’t pay your mortgage. Excitement doesn’t get you into a house or help you afford the cost of groceries,” says Murkowski. “But we have a bonus here in this area, and that is not only a natural beauty of our surroundings, but a generosity of heart with people that make it really special, even during some tough times.”

The Senate is currently in recess until April 16th.

Aaron Dupuis is the area management biologist with the Alaska Department of Fish and Game. In an interview with KCAW on Friday, he said the fishery was in a transition.    

we’re kind of, kind of transitioning into spawning mode for the fish. You know, we’ve been, we’ve been following this tremendous biomass of herring coming into the sound for the last two weeks or so, since we’ve been out on the water. And Yeah, normally when they start coming in, we have really good, dense balls, aggregated schools. And then as we get closer to spawning and then into spawning activity, we’ll see those big schools break up, thin out, hit the bottom, get into the shallows, and start spawning. 

State managers observed around 18 nautical miles of spawn during aerial surveys today/Friday. Spawn was concentrated from Watson Point to Harbor Point, Kasiana Island, along the causeways, along the eastern side of Kruzof Island, and along the shores of Krestof Island. 22 cumulative miles of spawn have been recorded near Sitka since March 30.

The state did not open the fishery to a commercial harvest today, but they’re not finished yet. Dupuis said typically as spawning kicks off on the north end of the sound, the fishery shifts to the south. 

So like the Alukina Bay, Cape Baranof, down to Dorothy narrows is kind of where we’re going to start looking next. But if I learned anything so far with Herring is that they can surprise you, so we’ll kind of be looking everywhere they can show up, where you least expect them.

Around 20 seiners have been participating in this year’s fishery, less than half of the total permit holders, and three processors are participating. The state opened the fishery for this year’s first commercial harvest on March 27. As of April 3, they’d caught over 6000 tons of herring, just a fraction of the 35,000 quota allowed by the state. 

Sitka school leaders say the budget scenario is worse than they thought, which could lead to a reduction of up to 16 staff, depending on which budget scenario the Sitka School Board ultimately chooses. While the board did not make a decision at its meeting on Wednesday (4-1-26), the message from the audience was clear.  

The Sitka School Board is staring down the barrel of a budget deficit next school year that has continued to grow.

At a meeting on April 1, the group considered three possible scenarios that would leave them with a balanced budget. The plan with the most severe staff reductions would cut 16 staff, including 10 teaching positions. The best case scenario for staff would still cut 12 positions. Some of those cuts would be teachers who are already retiring, but their positions would not be refilled.

School Board President Phil Burdick said the situation was “dire” no matter what they choose.

“We have no money. There is no money coming from the state. All scenarios look like we can either spend down our fund balance and all of the Secure Rural Schools we think we’re going to get, and the Secure Rural Schools money we have,” Burdick said. “And if we don’t, then we are going to cut deeply into staff. That is a super rough synopsis. No money, staff cuts.”

Cutting more positions could mean keeping some money in savings, depending on how much the district receives in federal Secure Rural Schools money–that’s a federal program that supports schools surrounded by federal lands which don’t contribute to the local tax base.

The budget deficit is worse than what was presented to the board a little over two weeks ago. At that time the district anticipated a status quo budget would leave them with a deficit of between $1.2 and $2 million, depending on whether the district’s health  insurance costs increase. 

But since then, district staff discovered a “significant error” in their accounting spreadsheets to the tune of around $800,000 in unaccounted for expenses. Superintendent Deidre Jenson pointed to several reasons for the error – a late audit, a rushed budget process, and historical knowledge lost from staff turnover, as well as an antiquated budget system on an Excel spreadsheet. 

“[In the] hurried process, then things get missed a little bit. We don’t double check quite as easily or thoroughly. And that’s where some of this has come up,” Jenson said. “[A] hurried process just makes for room for errors.” She said the district does not have an accounting system that actually helps build the budget, and investing in a new program would prevent issues like this from occurring in future years.

The news leaves the district with even less wiggle room in the budget for next year. Sitka’s assembly has already committed to fund schools to the cap or maximum allowed by state law, plus additional non-instructional funds. The district had already instituted a spending freeze, and is anticipating some savings from that- all scenarios suggest spending the full amount, around $500,000. So the question now is whether to spend most of the money the district anticipates it will receive from Secure Rural Schools. The federal funding pool that could be as much as $1.7 million, but 2025 and 2026 disbursement amounts are not yet confirmed, and are still subject to assembly approval.

Educators and administrators advocated on behalf of their schools to the board, calling for them to choose the scenario that cuts the fewest staff. Many, including Blatchley Middle School science teacher Alex Dailey, said more cuts just weren’t sustainable. 

“If you look in the last 12 years, you’ve gone from over 100 teachers to 66. You know, that’s a third of the colleagues that I work with,” Dailey said. “I started in 2020, and the number here was 94 when I started. That’s a third of the people that I’ve worked with that I’ve seen go.”

“To cut us down is going to be brutal for our kids. There’s hope on the horizon. We don’t know who the governor is going to be next, but it’s guaranteed it’s going to be friendlier to education, whoever it is,” Dailey continued. “Please, hold out, until then for us and for our kids”

Some board members, including Paul Rioux firmly opposed the scenario that would cut the most staff.

“I’m definitely a hard no on one, and I think that it’s irresponsible for us to not take a look at if we have another $700,000, what would it be possible to keep,” Rioux said.

Keet Gooshi Heen music teacher Susan Brandt-Ferguson said the board should spend the money now and not save it for a rainy day. 

“So you might think that it’s risky business to maybe be short on the expenses…It’s risky to not keep these teachers,” Brandt-Ferguson said. “Please understand budgeting with a school district is so different from budgeting for a family, budgeting for a business, budgeting for an assembly. We can’t make money. We are always at the mercy of someone else, and so all we can do is spend the money that you have, or that you think you probably will, maybe, hopefully have. That’s your job. Please spend it.” 

But board member Tom Williams felt the opposite approach was the risky one. 

“What’s the risk of funding a school year, and we don’t have the money to finish it, and those teachers don’t get a paycheck after December? Is that more of a risk than being conservative and funding what you have?” Williams said. “[If] the money doesn’t come in, what’s the impact to that family? I think it’s worth being honest up front with what you have, not necessarily what you hope to get.”

Both he and board member Amanda Williams voiced discomfort with building a budget on Secure Rural Schools money the district has not received yet. 

More numbers are still up in the air, like where health insurance costs will land. The board did not make any decisions at its meeting, and agreed to meet again on April 23 to discuss the budget further. The board is required to finalize its budget and submit it to the assembly by May 1. 

Maxine Duncan felt like something was bothering her teenage daughter. It was just about a month into the 2022 school year.

“I was just like, maybe she’s just having a bad day, but those days added up…When finally I asked her, I said, ‘What is wrong with you? What is wrong?’ I said, ‘Did something happen to you?’” Duncan recalled. “And then she started crying, and she said, ‘Yes.’”

Duncan’s daughter asked KCAW not to use her name but gave her mother permission to speak on-the-record. She told her mother she’d been sexually assaulted by a fellow student at Mt. Edgecumbe High School.

“And even in that initial moment of her opening up to me, and I knew it was bad, I didn’t ask her to tell me the story right then there,” Duncan said. “I said, ‘Hold on one moment, I’m going to call your dad so you don’t have to keep repeating yourself.’”

The family reported the assault to the Sitka Police Department immediately, and the police officer told them he would notify the school and initiate an investigation.

Duncan said over the next several weeks, they had three in-person meetings with school leadership. In that time, she said no safety plan was implemented, and getting information about the investigation was challenging. Throughout that process, she said her daughter was met with skepticism from school leaders.

“When a student reports a sexual assault, the expectation is not perfection, it’s protection,” Duncan said in a statement she shared with KCAW.

She says it was unclear what steps the school was taking to keep her daughter safe and their requests for information were getting them nowhere. In that time, Duncan’s daughter’s grades slipped, and she took to hiding in bathrooms between classes, skipping lunch and cheer practice to avoid the student in common areas. 

“They would have sent him home faster if he had started a fight than had put my daughter’s life in endanger,” she says. “Not only when it happened, but for the next three and a half weeks, while he wasn’t even being on restriction, and any type of little guidance that we got, it was never to make us feel safe.”

And she said the school’s protocol for responding to sexual assault allegations was also unclear. Peeling through the school’s handbook and website didn’t help. KCAW found the same problem.  

According to federal law, Duncan and her family should not have been left in the dark. Title IX, the 1972 federal civil rights law prohibits sex-based discrimination in schools, including sexual harassment and assault. Kayleigh Baker is an attorney and senior supervising consultant with TNG Consulting, an organization that specializes in risk management in higher education, including Title IX. Baker says in 2020, Title IX regulations were updated to include detailed guidance on the formal grievance process.

“When we have an allegation, and a complainant files what is called a formal complaint, requesting an investigation, then the school has to do several things as dictated by these regulations, which are binding on all schools in the US,” Baker said. “The process is pretty rigid, and it’s pretty robust.”

If the grievance process is followed, Baker said there’s information that has to be provided to both parties before interviews can occur. Appeal rights must be offered, and before an investigation is finalized, all parties have the right to review and comment on any evidence that was collected. The final investigation report should include that feedback.

“Then they also get a copy of that investigation report before a separate individual, who was not the decision maker and who is not serving as the Title IX coordinator, makes a determination as to whether or not policy is violated,” Baker said. (Editor’s Note: The requirement for an independent reviewer was removed in a 2024 update to Title IX, but those updates were vacated by a federal judge in 2025, reverting the regulations back to the 2020 standards).

The accused has rights too. Under Title IX, until the investigation concludes they cannot be punished and must have equal access to educational services, so the decision to allow the student to attend events was in line with the law.

An emergency removal can only occur once the school has done a risk analysis and determined the student poses an immediate threat to health and safety- she says that’s a very high bar to meet. However, Baker said schools can still separate students as part of the investigation process. 

“There could be changes made to residence halls assignments, or perhaps changes made to academic class schedules, or perhaps staggering of dining hall times and some other things too,” Baker said. “Certainly the issuance of no contact orders or no contact directives are all very common supportive measures that can still be enacted.”

Duncan said her family didn’t receive any of that documentation at the time. After about a month had passed, a school administrator called them to say the investigation was complete and, Duncan said, the student was expelled. KCAW reviewed a letter that the family received from the state, which said the student had been charged with sexual assault. KCAW was unable to confirm the outcome of the charges since the student was a minor at the time. Duncan says at that moment, they didn’t want to pursue the case any further. Her daughter just wanted to feel like a high school student again.

More than three years have passed, and Duncan’s daughter is an adult now, and she wants to review the school’s files on her case. But when she reached out for documents, she got pushback. After being denied a couple of times, they finally secured their records from the city only after providing in-person identification, and the school could not find any relevant records to share with them, and directed them to the Sitka Police Department for investigation records.

If Title IX had been followed, a file from the grievance process including all of the collected evidence would still be available. Her family submitted a request under the Federal Educational Rights and Privacy Act and waited 45 days. In early March, Superintendent David Langford  responded to their request via email, saying, “We have sent all the records we have. This is an event that happened years ago. If it was a serious incident it would have been reported to police,” and suggested they contact police for a case number.

Baker said it’s a common misconception in K-12 schools that if a police investigation is initiated, the school has done its due diligence, but it hasn’t. Schools are required to do an independent investigation that’s separate from a police investigation under Title IX. And they must keep files from those investigations for seven years.

“Not only do I wish that more administrators recognized that this school has an independent obligation to conduct an investigation and provide a process and provide support,” Baker said. “But I want families and students to know that as well, right, that going to law enforcement does not mean that you’re not entitled to a process at your school.”

KCAW reached out to school leadership and the Commissioner of Education, Deena Bishop for comment on this case and to learn more about how Title IX is currently being implemented at the school. In a response to our inquiry on March 19, Bishop said Mt. Edgecumbe takes all reports of sexual misconduct and their obligations under Title IX seriously.

Bishop said based on the available information the report was taken seriously by staff at the time and referred to the proper authorities. She said supportive measures were offered to Duncan’s daughter consistent with school practices, and the alleged student withdrew from the school shortly thereafter. 

However, Bishop said in reviewing the files, she and Superintendent Langford identified gaps in their Title IX process that were “concerning.” Specifically, that during and after leadership transitions between Spring and Fall of 2022, including the hiring of a new superintendent and principal, it was, “not clear how certain Title IX responsibilities and records were transferred during that period.” 

Bishop said she and Langford are expediting efforts to meet and exceed federal requirements, performing a review of their procedures to ensure they are in compliance with Title IX and expanding training for staff, including the Title IX coordinator. She said moving forward the school’s superintendent will assume that role. On March 20, the school’s website was updated to include information on Title IX, including how to report discrimination or harassment, to its homepage.

Duncan’s daughter gave permission for KCAW to use her voice in this piece. 

“As a teenager, you’re taught that if something bad happens…there are systems meant to protect you,” she said, reading from a statement.

“You’re told there are clear rules, clear processes and people who will step in when something goes wrong. But when I tried to rely on those systems, I saw how easily those clear rules were treated like suggestions instead of obligations.”

She and her family say they don’t want to see the school punished, they want accountability and policy change. They want to see the law applied.

“These protections exist because survivors before me fought for that civil right,” she said. “It’s a right I should have had, and having it properly applied could have lessened the emotion impact that I will carry for the rest of my life.

Commissioner Bishop said her office will continue to review the school’s records to determine whether more information around the case can be identified. Meanwhile, the Duncan family has obtained legal counsel and is looking into their options.

Phoenix Johnson works in political advocacy and education now, but around two decades ago, fresh out of the United States Air Force, she was planning on a career in medicine.

“Getting into the medical field was almost out of survival,” Johnson says. “I’ve always cared about people…I was a suicide intervention skills instructor, the youngest in the Air Force to do that. It hurts my heart to see people hurting, and I’ve hurt, and I haven’t had help when I needed it, and being an eldest sister, you know, I just kind of feel like that’s just ingrained in me.”

She was 26 when she moved to Ketchikan in the summer of 2011. The next year, she took a job in a lab run by Ketchikan Indian Community, an opportunity that felt deeply personal to her. 

“I’m biracial. My mom is Indigenous, and my dad was a Coastie…And that’s how they met [when] he got stationed up in Alaska. And so I thought, ‘What a neat opportunity to be a part of my mother’s tribal community, and to give back and help people.'” 

Johnson worked alongside one other technician in the lab, and they got along well. But the lab director, Dr. Richard McGrath, did not put her at ease. She had only been working in the lab for a few weeks when she said McGrath started to cross the line into her physical space.

“Immediately I could tell where he placed his body was unprofessional,” Johnson says. “The personal bubble wasn’t there.”

“It was a fairly small lab, and so, you know, I’m sure someone could justify, like, ‘There just wasn’t enough room. That’s why my pelvis just slid across you, right? Or, like, ‘I’m just grabbing for the gauze. That’s why I grazed your breast.'”

She recalls a moment when he called her into his office and pulled her chair closer to him so their knees were touching. When she tried to scoot her chair backwards, he pulled her close to him again. She recalls several other instances of inappropriate touching, including on her thigh, neck, and hair. She says he invited her to his home on Prince of Wales Island, which she declined. And then there was a slap. 

He came in, and that was the morning that he like full on, slapped my butt, and there’s  no mistaking that,” Johnson says. “It was underhand, slapping, cupping booty jiggle, all of it. And I was stunned, and I remember looking at him, and I was resolved, and I just said, ‘Never touch me like that again.’”

She reported McGrath to the tribe’s human resources department the same day, March 19, 2012. Three days later, she sent additional documentation, listing other instances of inappropriate touching and conversation. She met with the tribe’s human resources director, who said they would investigate. 

KCAW reached out to Ketchikan Indian Community CEO Emily Edenshaw, who declined to comment.

(Editor’s Note: After this story was published, Edenshaw sent KCAW a statement. We’ve included the link at the bottom of this story)

Johnson says they weren’t taking the allegations seriously. 

“I do recall being told, I don’t know if it was before or after the letter, HR saying, ‘Okay, well, clearly there’s an issue, so we’ll just have it so you guys interact very little. And I’m like, ‘Well, not really sure how that’s supposed to happen, because he’s the director. And that’s when it became very clear that, ‘Oh, I’m I’m the disposable one. They’re going to want to preserve a director, I guess.'”

A month later, on April 17, she received a response from KIC’s General Manager at the time, Debra Patton. The letter rejected Johnson’s sexual harassment claim, calling the incidents “non-intentional communication and physical contact.” It said McGrath’s actions may have been misinterpreted by Johnson due to his  “casualness” in the office, and the physical touching of her hands and shoulders was intended, “to refresh your knowledge of blood withdrawing procedure.” It said invitations to McGrath’s home were standard for all employees. Furthermore, the letter said McGrath’s butt slap was accidental, and was intended for her back. It said they found “no witnesses to support the allegation [that] he touched [her] on the neck, thigh and hair,” but if she felt intimidated in the future, she should speak with human resources or a management staff member immediately.    

The letter, which she says was delivered to her by the tribe’s former health administrator Brent Simcosky, said she could file a grievance in response to the investigation. Johnson says she filed a grievance right away. Within days, HR staff called her into a meeting, and told her she was fired. Johnson remembers crying as they immediately escorted her off the premises.

“Treating me as if I was some high threat or a criminal was that much more traumatizing,” Johnson recalls. “And then I’m just being dumped out on the sidewalk with no plan, no severance, no apology, no justice.”

KCAW has independently confirmed that McGrath worked for the Ketchikan Indian Community through at least 2013. A few years later, he was hired at Sitka Community Hospital. He was under contract there until he was placed on administrative leave in December 2018 after several sexual assault allegations were raised against him by three different women. He was charged in 2019 with 13 counts of felony sexual assault. Following a mistrial in 2022, on the first day of what was expected to be a lengthy trial in 2023, McGrath took a last-minute deal with the state. He pleaded guilty to third degree sexual assault, and was sentenced to two years in prison. KCAW reached out to McGrath’s legal representation for comment, but they did not respond. 

Johnson believes that if McGrath’s actions had been addressed by Ketchikan Indian Community years ago, it could have prevented him from harming patients and medical staff in the future.

Last year, she happened across news coverage of McGrath’s Sitka arrest. She felt it was time to ensure that her story was heard. 

“Being able to talk about this now means that my experience isn’t just invisible and it wasn’t erased. It means something, and there are so many survivors out there that don’t get their stories told,” Johnson says.

“Every time that we can tell these stories, it shines more light. You know, they say to drive out the dark with light,” she continues. “But it also, I think, hopefully inspires other people to be better. Even if somebody reads this and they decide, ‘Maybe I should go to therapy,’ [or] ‘Maybe I should tell my best friend this thing happened to me. Maybe somebody just needs that push to just try one more time.”

Johnson says she filed a grievance with the Indian Health Service earlier this year, but she’s skeptical of the state’s court system as a means for victims seeking justice. She says its “deference to state agencies supersedes its citizens in a way that feels inhumane.” Still, she’s optimistic that, if people act with integrity, those systems can be changed.

“We don’t need a system to have integrity, I try to teach people that. Every day I teach my daughter that you don’t need a law to tell you to be a decent human being,” Johnson says.

“The systems could be crummy, but if you have integrity, if we collectively have integrity we can fix the system, we can change the system, or we can work around the things that are not functioning as they should, or that are harming people.”

A civil case filed by one of McGrath’s victims in Sitka is being appealed before the Alaska Supreme Court. 

Editor’s Note: After this story was published on March 31, KIC CEO Emily Edenshaw released a statement. In her letter, Edenshaw said that as a matter of policy, KIC does not comment on past or current employee matters. “At the same time, we recognize that conversations like these can be difficult and may surface painful experiences for survivors,” she wrote. “Anyone impacted by sexual abuse or violence deserves support, care, and access to resources.” The letter included links to resources for survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault. “KIC remains committed to maintaining a safe, respectful, and accountable workplace and community,” the letter continued. “We take all concerns seriously and continue to uphold the highest standards of integrity in how we serve our people.”

Read the full statement here.

Dave Turcott is a commercial fisherman who has been trolling in southeast Alaska since the 1960s. Yet it was only two years ago that Turcott began transcribing his experiences from the sea onto paper, earning him the title of a “fisherpoet.” Standing behind a podium at the Sitka Public Library with the ocean at his back, Turcott reads to a room of over 30 attentive librarians an anecdote chronicling one of his earliest memories in Southeast, which involves him and his fellow fishermen improvising a solution to fixing a hole in their gas tank while on the road to catch a ferry in Haines. 

“Somebody freshened the chewing gum. We added a little gas, and eased on to the next roadhouse. Someone was always chewing a fresh plug in case the old one fell off,” says Turcott, much to the amusement of the crowd.

And Turcott is not the only fisherpoet sharing his work. Mariah Warren has worked as a fisherman across a wide variety of vessels for 20 years, half of them as a captain. One of the short readings she shared with the audience was a poem titled “Please Don’t Die at Sea.”

“Please don’t die at sea, my dears. Tell the story someday instead over burgers and beers, about the time the storm called your name and you chickened out. The kids are listening. Those are the times that they need to hear about,” says Warren. “Remember your heroes, those storm gray, bright-eyed women and Poseidon-bearded men. I know we all do. Please survive so someday you can be a grouchy, salt encrusted, wise and inspiring old timer too.”

Sitting in chairs propped up beside the podium, Turcott leans back into his chair with tear-filled eyes and pursed lips. Next to him, Paul Rioux says for a long time, he struggled to understand how his routine life at sea would interest readers. He shares an essay where he realizes the life of a fisherman offers a unique literary connection between self-reliance and fate.

“Rare days of pure winning are made sweeter by all the days of struggling, fighting weather, and during poor fishing and/or depressing crisis. All of this occurs in an awe-inspiring setting seen by an infinitesimally small percentage of the population, thereby a very exclusive club,” says Rioux. “You cannot fake your way in. You have to get salty to be salty.”

One of the visiting librarians in the audience is Sandy Lukes, the Outreach Librarian for the Anchorage Public Library. It’s Lukes’ first ever Alaska Library Association conference, and she says listening to the storytellers gave her a greater appreciation for how crucial fishing is for communities like Sitka. 

“Me being from Seattle, I know there’s a lot of fishing that goes around there, but I wasn’t as close to or familiar with it,” says Lukes. “So it’s really interesting seeing how how much that is part of the livelihood here, and what that looks like for people.”

Tele Aadsen is the 4th and final fisherpoet and moderator for the event. She shares a humorous and heart-warming story of a fisherman who inspired her to embrace her queerness in their line of work. She hopes the librarians are inspired to highlight the unexpected storytellers in their own communities, fishermen or otherwise.

“Sharing with librarians is awesome. Who better to share with than people who are professional story shares you know and appreciate that thought that goes into it,” says Aadsen. “I think the takeaway is, who are the people in your community who maybe people don’t know their writing, or have their own stories to bring forward, because we all have those folks everywhere.” 

As the event draws to a close, the fisherpoets and librarians mingle, with some snacking on the fish treats caught and prepared by the fishermen themselves. With shelves chock-full of books on one end, and a large glass window framing Sitka Sound on the other, the patrons are surrounded by stories.

“So we obviously don’t want to come in here and say, here’s a $900,000 deficit. Figure it out,” Leach said. “We’ve got some options that have been put together, and I just want to throw these out there to stir some discussion, and I know there will need to be some tough decisions made.”

Leach suggested two possible cuts– he first suggested tackling the “resource proposal” list. These are requests for new positions or equipment city department heads submit during the budget process. The other option Leach suggested was reconsidering part of the city’s contribution to the Sitka School District, by reverting to the traditional 50/50 split of the Secure Rural Schools Funding to trim the deficit.

The assembly leaned into the resource proposals first. After much discussion, the group cut several items from the list, including the purchase of two patrol cars for the police department, and $250,000 for athletic field sand. Overall, the group trimmed the deficit from the draft general fund budget by more than half, and directed the municipal administrator to identify other cuts that could bridge the remaining budget gap. 

Setting aside the question of Secure Rural Schools funding, and even with city funding schools to the cap, or maximum allowed by state law, the Sitka School District’s budget is in a tight spot. At a School Board work session earlier in the week, the board considered three possible scenarios for trimming its own projected budget deficit for next school year. School Board President Phil Burdick told the assembly all of those scenarios included staff cuts.  

“So you know it’s it’s dire, and it’s not your fault. Let’s just put it that way. We’re looking at 11-and-a-half staff reductions, even in the best case scenario, that’s just teachers. We’re also looking at one-and-a-half administrators. Not rehiring positions, that’s included in that. The one full time counselor position that we’ll fund with grant funds, reduction of classified staff,” Burdick said. “Basically, we’re cutting in every area no matter, no matter which scenario we look at.”

The Sitka School Board will hold a public budget hearing on April 1 beginning at 5 p.m. in the Sitka High School library, before its regular meeting. The Sitka Assembly will hold several more special budget meetings next month before it finalizes the budget in May. 

In an announcement from the Alaska Department of Fish and Game on Saturday afternoon (3-27-26), state managers said they opened the fishery to commercial seiners from 9 am. to six p.m. in the Crescent Bay area, in the waters just south of downtown Sitka. 
On Sunday, Fish and Game opened the fishery from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. from Crescent Bay to Indian River, and from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. in the waters east of Kruzof Island, from Shoals Point to Kamenoi Point. 

Fish and Game estimates that seiners caught around 500 tons of herring in the fishery’s first opener on Friday, and just over 800 tons on Saturday. In an announcement this afternoon, Fish and Game reported 1500 tons of herring were caught on Sunday.

In an announcement from the Alaska Department of Fish and Game Friday afternoon (3-27-26), state managers said they opened the fishery to commercial seiners from 12 to 6 p.m. in Crescent Bay.

Two test sets pulled from the area this/Friday morning yielded fish with roe maturity averaging from 10% to 12% with average fish weight averaging from 151 to 177 grams.  

State managers have been conducting regular aerial surveys since mid-March. In today’s announcement, they said they saw a typical number of herring predators for this time of year, including humpback whales, grey whales, and sea lions, but did not observe any schools of herring or spawn from the air. 

This year, the state set a harvest level at just over 35,000 tons of herring for the commercial fishery. But due to market conditions and low participation, it’s unlikely fishermen will harvest close to that amount. Last year, with a limited fleet and fewer than three processors participating, only around 6000 tons were caught of the available 35,000 tons. 

The maximum percentage of mature herring that fishermen are able to harvest was reduced from 20% to 15% by the Alaska Board of Fisheries last year. At the time, fish and game staff told the Board of Fish they wanted to reduce the harvest level as an extra precaution, until the state could confirm new Canadian research, which suggested a 20% harvest level may be too high for herring stocks.

The state will release its next fishery update on Saturday.  

Editor’s note: This story was corrected to note that fewer than three processors, not harvesters, participated in last year’s fishery.