It was fifty years ago this summer when a motley outfit loaded up a post office step van, a jeep, and a 16 foot ancient camper trailer to make the move from Minnesota to Alaska. It was a daunting adventure, which included a University of Minnesota law student who had yet to take his final exams, his wife, and two fellow travelers who tagged along for fun. The route would cover 3,000 miles, including hundreds of miles on the unpaved Alcan highway. The Angstmans had made the trip the previous summer in the step van which was rustically converted into a camper. The step van had been purchased for $860 at a US government auction. When the step van was picked up at the Post Office garage, sympathetic mechanics had loaded up the back with spare parts and tires after hearing where the rig was headed. That model was no longer part of the fleet and the parts were surplus. The traveling crew including a dog, of course, an Irish Setter named Katie who later was gunned down by Bethel police in one of their crack downs on stray dogs as she stood in a neighbor’s yard, but that is another story. One mishap on the Alcan involved Katy. At a gas stop she was left behind and no one noticed for 50 miles, which required a painful backtrack with the Jeep. The guy at the station said, "Happens all the time. We knew you would be back cause she is such a nice dog."
Below, Sue says goodbye to her in-laws. Must have just come from church.
The jeep after a couple days on the Alcan. The front screen is to protect from flying gravel.
The plan had some loose parts, and the economic part was likely the loosest. There were no jobs awaiting the Angstmans in Alaska, only the hope for employment and adventure. Myron had to first graduate from law school, which was supposed to happen long distance by taking the final exams at the Alaska law library. That was a move made necessary by the fact that residency had to be established before taking the summer bar, and waiting for finals in Minnesota would have not allowed enough time for that to happen. So employment was dependent upon passing the final exam, passing the bar exam and then obtaining employment (and getting the equipment across the Alcan, of course.) Finances were tight, but optimism was high at the start of the trip. Sue was a college graduate in speech therapy and Myron was always confident about passing tests. What could go wrong?? With a tiny bank roll and a school loan debt of $20,000, it wouldn’t take many setbacks to put the Angstmans on the food lines, but there was always the camper and there was a fishing rod and hunting rifle on board.
Sue found early employment at a local hospital as a billing clerk, and Myron took his finals. After that came a review course for the bar exam, hitch-hiking down town from a camper park a ways out of town. Meanwhile, appointments were made for job interviews. In those interviews it became obvious that working for a big firm as a back room researcher was not in the cards. For one thing the folks doing the interviews for those kind of jobs seemed exceedingly dull. The only appealing jobs were the ones that offered an opportunity to get in court right away. There were a number of offers that first summer, but the most interesting was the offer to become the first ever resident Public Defender in Bethel. Herb Soll was the head Public Defender in Anchorage, and he faced a tough challenge filling that new spot because Bethel had such a poor reputation in the legal community. Soll later said that he recognized that his latest applicant wouldn’t be bothered by the challenges of living in Bethel, after hearing about the trip to Alaska in a used post office van. He sent the Angstmans to Bethel 50 years ago this week for an inspection trip with the lawyer who was handling most Bethel cases at the time Ben Esch. The two day visit revealed a rough and tumble community of lively and friendly folks. Ben took the Angstmans to visit court employee Bea Kristovich at her home, which of course was entertaining. A visit to the Ice Cream Parlor was amusing. It seemed that most of the town was walking around on the streets at 11p.m. on a warm July evening. A stop at the Legal Services office was informative. Olive Hawk was the receptionist and clearly knew the lay of the land. Her boss was Lewis Schnaper, and he suggested finding a place to live might be hard.
Upon returning to Anchorage, the job was accepted and plans were made to move to Bethel in August, without any place to live, no vehicle and no office. Folks today still believe it’s a risky adventure to move to Bethel with a job and housing in place, and a welcoming committee at the airport to meet them. The Angstmans moved to Bethel with what they could carry, and the rest was put in storage in Anchorage. Band director Dick Barker was a cab driver in the summer and he drove the Angstmans to their first Bethel home, the old Kuskokwim Inn, along with their dog who had to live outside in her dog kennel. That next day was to be pivotal. The first stop was the Legal Service office. Lewis mentioned that Henry Jung was building some small houses on 7th Avenue and they were about finished. A quick visit to that spot confirmed they looked finished, and one had a open window which afforded a quick inspection tour. Some prospective renters wait for an open house when really an open window is all that is needed. Olive Hawk suggested contact with Henry Jung could be made through the radio station by sending a message on Tundra Drums, a service that still exists today. The message said “To Henry Jung in Napakiak. Please contact Myron Angstman at the Bethel Court house.” Meanwhile the Angstmans had moved into the house, which made for an awkward discussion when Henry showed up at the court house. That location was picked because there was no other spot to conduct a meeting. The court had a couple of very small conference rooms which served as the Public Defender office for a couple of months while a suitable office was located. When Henry heard the message he was worried he was in trouble so he showed up on edge. The introduction was straightforward. “ HI I’m your new renter.” Henry seemed confused. “I didn’t know the place was finished. We haven’t even talked about rent price.” The answer reassured him. “That’s why I sent the message, how much is the rent?” He named a fair price and the deal was set, perhaps a little after the fact. We never bothered with a key.
Suffice it to say that transaction had much to do with the next 50 years. It was from that location that plans were made to buy a nearby lot across the tundra from Liz Dillon which became first the Angstman cabin a year later and eventually Old Friendly Dog Farm and Angstman Law office. It is hard to say if ALO would have lasted 50 years without having that wonderful corner of Bethel which would likely not have happened but for that open window and the unusual meeting with Henry Jung.
Here are Sue and Katy at the Henry Jung apartment. The famous entry window is on the left.. On the right is a honey bucket. (You might have to google that)
The search for an office took a few months, and the first office was a junky pink trailer across from Kilbuck School. Secretary Margaret Cooke wore full winter gear all day. A later move a few yards to the east made things a little better but the early Bethel offices were hardly plush.
This was second Public Defender Office with newly hired lawyer Al Beiswenger and helpers Millie Charles and Joan Hamilton.
Looking back on those 50 years, it is apparent that picking any other location to start practicing law would have been problematic for the young lawyer out of Minnesota. Early trial experience can be hard to obtain for most new lawyers, but in Bethel it was mandatory. Starting lawyers often get legal research and writing assignments which would certainly not have gone well, as those skills were not part of the package for the first Bethel Public Defender. But the ability to communicate effectively with clients and juries was always present, and it soon became apparent that cross examination was a snap. Story telling is an important factor in jury trials because of course each case is its own story. Daily practice for 70 years has made story telling a fairly easy task. The first trial was conducted before being admitted to the Bar, and many more followed. Most were wins and gradually lawyers around the state accepted the idea that this upstart hick from Bethel could actually win cases against refined legal scholars from anywhere. 50 years later the story goes something like this: “He doesn’t sound like a lawyer, he doesn’t look like a lawyer, he doesn’t dress like a lawyer and he doesn’t act like a lawyer, but
somehow he wins.” And it was the chance to try dozens of cases in Bethel back in the day that made that all possible. One other factor is important. 50 years without an actual supervisor sounds nice, but for those who reject supervision is it more of a requirement. For three years as Public Defender the boss was in Anchorage and wanted to hear as little as possible from the Bethel office. Phone service was so bad that was not a problem. For the next 47 years in private practice, there was no supervision at all, even when it was probably needed according to many. A responsible supervisor would have urged a change in occupation a long time ago. However just today a case was settled for a bunch of money, and a new case came in by phone. Year 51 is well under way.
The Alaska bar honors its 50 year members with a photo album of their application photos. Hardly changed in 50 years….
By the way, that tie in the photo was a wedding tie, and rarely seen in court dispite strong pressure from the judges. After years of trying, Bethel judges eventually gave up on the tie rule, and now common sense prevails. It should be called the Angstman rule.
fun to read.
great read
great read