To the untrained eye, the overgrown vacant lot on Katlian Street may seem like just that. But to the Kiks.ádi Clan, it’s a significant cultural site. This plot of land is where the Kiks.ádi clan house, known as the Point House, once stood. Last month, after over 20 years outside of Kiks.ádi possession, it was repatriated to its home clan.

Jerrick Hope-Lang, a Juneau-based member of the Kiks.ádi clan now holds the deed. As he explains it, the Point House was passed down in the western tradition via a will, and subsequently torn down. Although no longer physically standing, Hope-Lang says the Point House still holds immense cultural significance.  

“Conceptually, we all know that we refer to our people as from the Point House, so the physical structure may not exist. But we as a people do. So the concept of the house being gone. That’s just a physical structure,” Hope-Lang said.

In Tlingit tradition, property and clan affiliation are passed through the matrilineal line, unlike in western culture where property is passed from both parents. Because marriage usually takes place between different clan members, to keep property within the rightful clan, it can’t be passed down through the nuclear family. But in the case of the Point House, that’s exactly what happened. Caught in the clash between Tlingit tradition, and western property law, it was passed down patrilineally, falling out of Kiks.ádi possession. But this isn’t an isolated event. Last year, another clan house collapsed after years in bureaucratic limbo without a caretaker, spurring Hope-Lang to act. 

“The Coho House fell down. And I just felt like…it was like a ‘now or never’ thing for me,” Hope-Lang explained

Over the course of a decade, Hope-Lang developed a close friendship with one of the last two living heirs of Point House, who declined to be interviewed for this story. They’d discussed an exchange before, but never followed through. In July, Hope-Lang decided to ask again.

“She had agreed at some point that she wanted to disburse her half of the property to me. I was excited but also nervous,” he said.

Hope-Lang invited her to Sitka, to meet with an attorney and see what the process of signing over the deed might look like. From Juneau, they traveled to Sitka, where the other remaining heir was located. Hope-Lang says he wasn’t planning on signing anything that day, but as fate would have it, both remaining heirs agreed to sign the deed. By the end of the day, he was the new legal owner of the property. 

“I was just kind of in shock, because I just thought we were having a conversation,” Hope-Lang said.

Now, he plans to have the house rebuilt as a “mixed use” gathering space. He hopes the revitalization of his clan house will spark a broader conversation around repatriation. 

“Our clan house revitalization could be more than this project. I think it starts here, with this ‘land back’ concept, and how we identify that as individual clans, beyond our tribes and how we move forward in that and act in that,” said Hope-Lang. “I’m excited that future Kiks.ádi children can walk into a place and say, this is my clan house.”

According to the National Center for Preservation Technology and Training, there there were once 43 standing clan houses in Sitka’s Indian Village District. Now only nine remain.

James Poulson is a member of the Sitka Historic Preservation Commission. He said the proposed rebuilding of the Point House would not only be a cultural milestone but a historical one. 

“They’ve been kind of coming down and slowly disappearing. And kind of been replaced with empty lots that get used for storing fishing gear and other industrial gear,” he explained. “This would be the first 21st century clan house built in Sitka.”

One of the few remaining clan houses is the Porch House. Chuck Miller is its caretaker. I met up with him at his ancestral home to learn more about the cultural significance of clan houses in Sitka.

“We’re in Kayaash ka hít. In Tlingit, It’s translated as either the Platform House or the Porch House,” he explained. “Our family refers to it as the Mother Coho House because it was the very first Coho clan house built when the Coho people first came about. So all the other Coho houses come from this house.”

Miller’s clan house is one of the only functioning clan houses left in Sitka, and therefore acts as a cultural hub for other Coho Clan members. 

“We have meetings here. And we have people lie in state here when they pass away underneath our family screen to show them honor and respect and our regalia is still here in our clan house. So that’s kind of what clan houses are all about,” Miller said.

Unlike the Point House, the Porch House was passed down to Miller according to tradition, from his maternal uncle. As he explains it, Tlingit tradition recognizes property as being collectively owned. So when western law arrived in Sitka, entire families of 10-15 people would sign the deed. According to Miller, it wasn’t a piece of paper, but an unwritten agreement that’s kept his house within the rightful clan. 

“It was just an unwritten thing that says, ‘If I pass, it’ll go to my spouse, my spouse will turn it over to the rightful clan.'” Miller said. “That way, you don’t have to go through 15 people’s signatures to get that permission…So we’ve done it that way since I’ve been here, since my uncle was here, since his uncle was here. So we’ve figured out a way around it somehow.”

After 25 years as caretaker, Miller says the Porch house is more than a building. It’s a point of pride. 

“I mean, growing up for me here, I lived down the street, literally. And I remember coming into this clan house when I was a very small, young child, and having all my family here — family functions, meetings, food, et cetera.” recalled Miller. “Having a clan house rebuilt here would be something pretty huge I think, and I applaud the Kiks.ádis for wanting to get this done and taken care of.”

Hope-Lang wants to see the exact same thing for Point House – for the clan house —to be rebuilt now or at least in the lifetime of those generous enough to return it. 

Editor’s Note; Hope-Lang urged KCAW to respect the privacy of the two former owners of Point House. KCAW obtained the deed to independently verify the donors, but agreed not to interview them for this story. 

Sitkans gathered on a wet and windy Tuesday afternoon (3-15-22) for the Herring Rock Blessing.

The traditional ceremony is a celebration of herring as they arrive in Sitka Sound to spawn, and an invocation of the renewal of life that comes each spring.

Yeix Anatsees Tom Gamble is the master of ceremonies at Herring Rock, which once stood near the tideline in Sitka Channel, but now rests in front of the Sheet’ká Ḵwáan Naa Kahídi tribal house.

Yeix Anatsees calls to the attending houses.

Yeix Anatsees belongs to Kiks.adi Clay House. An important aspect of the ceremony is acknowledging the duality of Tlingit culture, Raven and Eagle, Kiks.adi and Kaagwaantaan. Gamble invites two Kaagwaantaan to sit in honor, holding the Peace Hat, given by the Russian Empire in reconciliation to Sitka’s Tlingit, and the Frog Hat. The first is Harvey Kitka.

“Thank you,” Harvey Kitka said to the crowd. “ It is not me holding this hat, but my great grandfather Rudolph Walton, and my grandfather Charlie Daniels, Sr. Gunalchéesh!”

The second is Dr. Tom Thornton.

“It is not me holding this hat,” Thornton said, “it is my adopted relatives, the Kaagwaantaan, and we are proud to be an outer shell for our Raven Kiks.adi.”

Tom Thornton is the Dean of Sciences at the University of Alaska Southeast.

The highlight of the ceremony is the presentation of herring regalia, worn by two of the Herring Protectors, Katelyn Stiles and Lakrisha Johnson, who lead the ceremony in song.

The robes are blue, like the ocean, and embroidered with silver herring. Another Protector, Louise Brady, explains that they are the centerpiece of a traveling exhibit which will educate the rest of the country about the importance of herring to the environment and people of Southeast Alaska.

A very wet mist has settled over Sitka by the time Yeix Anatsees concludes the blessing, by asking each of the houses present to pour water over Herring Rock.  He’s collected the water in gallon jugs from all the major rivers and streams in the Sound. He then thanks everyone for braving the elements to attend the Herring Rock Blessing, and reminds us that the damp cold is a sign that winter is changing into spring, and the herring are returning soon.

Alaska Day is a state holiday recognizing the transfer of Alaska from Russia to the United States. A central event that caps off Sitka’s Alaska Day Festival celebrations most years is a reenactment of that transfer at the top of Castle Hill, or Noow Tlein. 

Noow Tlein was once the site of Tlingit Kiks.ádi clan houses, which were later taken by the Russians and destroyed. For many, the Alaska Day celebrations and the transfer ceremony atop the hill commemorate the sale of stolen land from one colonial power to another, and erases the violent history of colonialism in Sitka. In recent years, a movement to recognize “Reconciliation Day” in place of Alaska Day continues to gain steam.

On Sunday afternoon (10-17-21), a group of around 100 Sitkans led by Kiks.ádi clan members, gathered atop Noow Tlein to recognize Reconciliation Day, with an emphasis on celebration, though the group did sing one mourning song.  

On Monday, amid Alaska Day celebrations a group of demonstrators organized by local activists and Tribal citizen, Louise Brady, marched from Gaja Heen or “Old Sitka” to Noow Tlein in commemoration of the “survival march” the Tlingit people made across the island following the Battle of Sitka and their expulsion by the Russians from their ancestral home. The group marched to the top of the hill in protest of the transfer ceremony reenactment holding signs about Reconciliation Day, while Brady lightly drummed.

Brady says she hopes to see more respectful conversation about reconciliation in the future.

Around 200 people attended a gathering in Sitka’s Totem Square to honor the herring on Saturday (4-10-21).

The event was organized by the Herring Protectors. The Indigenous-led group advocates for the cultural and ecological importance of herring, and supports the Sitka Tribe of Alaska’s fight for changes to the state’s management of the species. The Sitka Sound Sac Roe Herring Fishery closed last week, after 14 consecutive days of openers.

During the event, five ceremonial Kiks.ádi robes were unveiled along with a new song honoring the herring. The song was written by Louise Brady and is owned by the Kiks.ádi. The robes were designed by local Tlingit artist Jennifer Younger along with Carol Hughey, and formline design by Charlie Skultka. Together, they tell the story of the Herring Rock Woman, Kaxátjaashaa.

Thirteen volunteers put in over 300 hours into the creation of the traditional robes.

Researchers have confirmed the location of an important site in Tlingit history. The Sitka National Historical Park has long commemorated the spot of a Kiks.ádi fort destroyed by Russian invaders over 200 years ago. But as KCAW’s Erin McKinstry reports, the fort’s exact location remained uncertain until now.

A peaceful clearing, a plaque and a totem pole mark the spot where Shís’gi Noow , or the Fort of Young Saplings, once stood. 

“It’s a sacred place, and I have been going out there for years when I feel in the need of strength,” Louise Brady or Kh’asheechtlaa said. She’s Kiks.ádi from the Point House in Sitka. “When I’m working on a project that I feel is, there’s some controversy, I go out there because that’s where my ancestors died for this land and for us to be able to be here today as Tlingit people.”

The fort was built following the Battle of Old Sitka in 1802, when the Kiks.ádi ousted Russian colonists from a site around seven miles north. They anticipated the Russian return two years later and held off invaders from the fort for four days, until the loss of their gunpowder supply ultimately forced them to retreat and abandon the site. The Russians then established a colony that remained until they sold Alaska to the U.S. in 1867. 

Oral histories and archaeological evidence like cannonballs and debris pointed to the clearing near the mouth of the Indian River, or Kaasda Héen, but some thought the fort stood in a different part of the park. A study released this week in the journal Antiquity has dispelled those doubts. Tommy Urban is a research scientist at Cornell University and the study’s co-author.

“We did such a large survey, much larger than the area immediately around the fort clearing because we wanted to rule out these other possibilities that it could be located somewhere else in the park,” Urban said.

Urban used something called an electromagnetic induction unit, which works kind of like a metal detector, to survey more than 40 acres of park property by hand over the course of two weeks. He also used a tool called a ground penetrating radar.

“With the ground penetrating radar you’d think I was mowing the lawn or running a vacuum cleaner or something like that and it’s about that size,” he said.

The technologies helped Urban and co-author Brinnen Carter determine the exact outline of the wooden fort, which was slightly larger than the current clearing and shaped like a trapezoid. That knowledge not only has historical implications, but also cultural significance, said Carter, who’s a former park employee and current cultural resource manager at Shenandoah National Park.

“It has really in a lot of ways been a symbol of ongoing cohesion in the Tlingit community in Sitka to have that site available and accessible for Kiks.ádi people,” Carter said.

Brady of the Kiks.ádi clan said it’s reassuring to know with certainty where the fort once stood. She hopes the findings prompt more visitors to learn the history of the site and remember those who died there.

“Now we know for sure that this is the place that this happened and let’s learn more and learn more together. And respect all the history that is being taught or that is available,” she said.

Brady said she’s always pleased when scientific and technological findings align with oral histories. 

The park will include information from the study in an upcoming “Cultural Landscape Report.” They’ll then work with the Sitka Tribe of Alaska to decide whether to make changes to the site, like additional signage or a physical marker identifying the fort’s outline.

Erin McKinstry is a Report for America corps member.

Sunday (10-18-20) was Alaska Day, and in any other year, Sitka’s downtown would’ve been packed with visitors and locals celebrating the town’s biggest event. 

This year, the Alaska Day organizing committee cancelled the parade and other public events because of the coronavirus pandemic. But, the growing effort to rebrand the holiday “Reconciliation Day” continued.

On October 18, the top of Castle Hill in Sitka is usually filled with sounds of gunfire, the national anthem and cheering crowds.

Castle Hill is where Alaska was formally transferred from Russia to the United States during a ceremony in 1867. A focal point of Sitka’s Alaska Day celebrations is a re-enactment of that transfer. 

But with events cancelled this year, a different sort of ceremony took its place. Before it was known as ‘Castle Hill,’ it was known to the Tlingit Kiks.ádi clan as Noow Tlein. Noow Tlein was once the site of Kik.sadi clan houses, which were later taken by the Russians and destroyed. On Sunday afternoon, a small group of Sitkans gathered there to acknowledge that history.

Dionne Brady-Howard is a teacher at Mt. Edgecumbe High School and was one of the organizers. 

“There are a lot of really difficult and negative things that have come from social distancing and COVID-19 risk, but one of the things that came from it that could have a more positive spin was that Noow Tlein was available,” Brady-Howard said.

For many members of Sitka’s Native community, Alaska Day isn’t a day of celebration, it’s a day of mourning. The holiday commemorates the sale of stolen land from one colonial power to another. Since 2017, a growing group of Sitkans has held a mourning ceremony at the bottom of the hill while the transfer ceremony takes place at the top. Around 100 people attended the mourning ceremony last year to acknowledge the loss of Tlingit land and grieve lives lost to colonization. 

This year, Brady-Howard said, the mood was different.

“Because we were at the top where we really belong, rather than having the mourning song or sorrowing song, we actually had songs of celebration,” she said. “And so it was a slightly different incarnation than it has been the last few years.”

Matthew Jackson was one of around 25 masked attendees at Sunday’s event.

He said he attended because he feels it’s important that non-Native people like him publicly acknowledge the past injustices and trauma caused by colonization. 

“I think settlers acknowledging that and owning up to it is a really important step toward healing some of those divisions in our state — healing some of those wounds that have been caused by colonization of Alaska,” he said.

And that’s the idea behind the name Reconciliation Day, said Louise Brady of the Kiks.ádi clan. Brady was an organizer of Sunday’s ceremony. 

“Our way of life was systematically taken apart, so I think it’s time that the truth is told because I think if we don’t acknowledge the truth,” she said. “We can’t get to that place where we can acknowledge it and we can start healing.”

Brady said she hopes that moving forward, there can be more dialogue between her group and the organizers of the Alaska Day celebrations.

Erin McKinstry is a Report for America corps member.

Louise Brady describes the schedule for the Saturday, April 6, Koo.eex’ hosted by the Sitka Kiks.adi. A canoe will be launched from Old Sitka, and paddled to Crescent Harbor with a planned arrival time of 1 p.m. Everyone will then march to the ANB Founders Hall for the 2 p.m. koo.eex’ (translated literally as “an invitation”). Everyone is invited to spend the afternoon and evening celebrating herring. With Chandler O’Connell from the Sitka Conservation Society.

Representatives of the Sitka Tribe of Alaska and the National Park Service renewed a funding agreement Friday that allows the tribe to co-manage the park. This, after a somber ceremony mourning the Kiks.ádi warriors who fought at the Fort of the Young Saplings. (Photo by Enrique Pérez de la Rosa, KCAW)

The Tlingit people have called Southeast Alaska home for thousands of years. And it wasn’t until the arrival of the first Russian settlers that their territory was taken by force.

Now, the Sitka Tribe of Alaska is back in charge of a small, but historic portion of their ancestral lands. Sitka Tribe has renewed an agreement to manage the interpretation program at Sitka National Historical Park. 

Downloadable audio.

During  the Battle of Sitka in 1804, the Kiks.ádi fought for the land where the city now sits. Two years before, they had ousted Russian colonists who had settled in what is now Old Sitka. Now, the Russians had come back in full force to take back their claims. But the Kiks.ádi were prepared and built a fort that impeded the Russian advance for four days. 

But the Kiks.ádi lost their gunpowder supply in an explosion while transporting it to the Fort of the Young Saplings, located at what is now the tip of Sitka National Historical Park. They were forced to retreat and cede this land to the Russians. The Kiks.ádi left behind their homes and possessions, including their clan regalia, to withdraw from the fort.  

Louise Brady says much more than that was lost in the battle. We’re walking into the wooded park toward an empty field where the fort once stood. A lone totem pole marks the site.

“My ancestors’ blood is on this land,” she said. “And that’s how much we value being Kiks.ádi and being from this land, being a part of this land, this place. So, we can remember all of the people who died and all the people who fought for us to continue to be who we are as Tlingit people.”

Brady is the operations lead for the Sitka National Historical Park. Last Friday, she organized a mourning ceremony to remember her Kiks.ádi ancestors that fought and died for this land.

She says the fight that took place in Totem Park still has relevance to modern-day Tlingit people. It’s just one of the many battles that have taken place since Russian colonialism and American governance. For her, the Battle of Sitka is a story of strength and resilience for native peoples fighting those battles today.

“Sometimes I get tired and when I do I come out here and I remember my grandmothers that fought alongside my grandfathers and I think, ‘you know what, I haven’t had to pick up a gun,” Brady said. “All I’ve had to do is say some words in front of some hostile people.”

People attending the ceremony gathered at the base of the totem pole that now sits where the fort once stood. When the ceremony began, the air around the crowd turned somber. At times, the only audible noise was the seagulls at the mouth of the Indian River in the distance.

Their cacophony seems to cease once Kiks.ádi members began to sing sorrowing songs to remember the Battle of Sitka.

While the battle took place over 200 years ago, Lisa Gassman says the feelings of loss are still very present to Tlingit people today.

“When they started singing the songs – and I’m going to get emotional here now – it just shows the tie that we still have to this land,” Gassman said. “It shows why we won’t go away. It’s important that people to understand that tie cannot be broken and it won’t.”

Attendees to the mourning ceremony gather where the Fort of the Young Saplings once stood. (Photo by Enrique Pérez de la Rosa, KCAW)

Gassman is the General Manager of Sitka Tribe of Alaska. She said the tribe is taking on more responsibilities in the management of Sitka National Historic Park. In 2018, they signed an agreement with the National Park Service to manage interpretation programs. After the mourning ceremony, they renewed that agreement for the first quarter of 2019 with a plan to expand their role.

“We’re excited to be back on our land and working with the Kiks.ádi people, the clans that were here at that time and remembering that history but also looking forward,” Gassman said.

In 1994, the federal Indian Self-Determination and Education Assistance Act was amended to let tribal governments pursue funding agreements for projects and programs on lands culturally connected to the tribe.

Sitka Tribe is not the first to enter a funding agreement, but they are the first to manage history education programs and interpretative talks at a national park.

Bert Frost is the regional director of the Park Service’s Alaska office. He said the members of Sitka Tribe of Alaska are much better prepared to tell the story of what happened at the park in 1804.

“Having members of the Sitka Tribe do it, they can bring a level of detail and passion and understanding that park rangers don’t have,” Frost said. “Having that personal connection is really a special thing for when visitors come and come to see what happened here and try to understand the significance of the site.”

Louise Brady wants events like the mourning ceremony to attract non-native and native people alike. She hopes cross-cultural events will help ease tensions communities of different backgrounds.

“For whatever reason, I think there’s a lot of misunderstanding and miscommunication that, you know, probably started from day one of contact,” Brady said. “It serves people well to come and witness this and to really get a better understanding of how closely we’re connected to this land.”

Brady says Tlingit people have become more welcoming to non-natives in recent years and are more willing to talk about their experiences as indigenous people. All we need to do is listen.

Duck Didrickson is survived by his three grandchildren, (from L to R) Cordelia, Corbin, and Kiera, who helped in the blessing and wore clothes gifted to them by their grandfather. (Mike Hicks/KCAW photo)

As herring spawn around Sitka, another kind of harvest is in full swing – one of laying branches, subsistence, and giving eggs to friends and family. To mark the harvest’s beginning, members of the Kiks.adi clan gathered in front of Sheet’ka Kwaan Naa Kahidi on March 22, 2015 to bless Herring Rock. Amid the prayers for safe harvest, the blessing this year was less about the rock and more about the man who fought for it’s survival. KCAW’s Emily Kwong was at the ceremony and sent this audio postcard.

Downloadable audio.

The original herring rock rested in the waterfront of the Indian Village and was considered the traditional place where the herring spawn would begin. You can’t talk about it’s history without mentioning the late Donald C. Didrickson, also known as “Duck.”

Duck: Herring rock is over 10,000 years old.

That recording was made by Duck’s daugther, Crystal Didrickson. About 15 of us are gathered around her laptop propped open at the base of the rock, listening.

Duck: My grandmother was of the Kiks.adi clan.

Donna Callistini showed KCAW this scanned image of an EW Merrill plate, depicting the original herring rock. The 11,000 portion that Duck Didrikson saved is circled in yellow. (Emily Kwong/KCAW photo)

The original herring rock was threatened in the construction of the Sheffield House – now Totem Square Inn – in 1973. Didrickson was a tug boat captain at the time and insisted the construction company save a portion of the once massive rock.

Duck: My friend Joe Ashby, president of the Sitka Historical Society, I told him I wanted that rock. That rock blasted out, rounded out, and put up on the side there.

Didrickson would move this precious piece of history three times: first to the Alaska Native Brotherhood Hall’s parking lot, then to the Shee Atika hotel, and then to it’s current location in front of Sheet’ka Kwaan Naa Kahidi, where he would bless it every year.

Duck: I had McGraw (Construction) move that 11,000 pound rock over there for me and I had it blessed with salt water. Anytime the Tlingits bless something, you bless it with salt water.

Duck Didrickson passed away in February of 2014.

(Sounds of salt water being poured on Herring Rock)

Pouring a jug of salt water on the rock, Crystal Didrickson carries on her father’s tradition.

Crystal: This was his dying wishes, for me to carry on this tradition until I pass it along to the next leader.

Crystal received help from Duck’s three grandchildren – Kiera, Corbin, and Cordelia.

Cordelia: The herring rock means to be me about missing my grandpa sometimes. But my grandpa – Mr. Duck – he makes me so happy and stuff.

Donna Callistini: This is out of respect and much love for Duck and for the Kiks.adi people that are being honored this day also.

Family friend Donna Callistini helped lead the prayer. After it was completed, she said,
“Duck would be happy. This was a big day I’ll never forget.”

A big day for herring rock and a fitting memorial for the man who fought to save it.