Reba’s Cabin

Have you ever went hiking and stumbled across a forgotten cabin, and as your curiosity pushes you to explore you can’t help but wonder about the lives of the people who lived there? This is the story of one of those forgotten places.

                About 9 miles outside of a tiny little Alaskan border town called Tok, tucked away in the woods down a long dirt road off an even longer stretch of highway sits the cabin of Reba Dewilde, an amazing woman who cut her own path through the harsh Alaskan wilderness and one of the last of a generation of Native Americans raised in the old ways. What’s impressive about this particular cabin is the fact that it’s not the only one she built, she had built 3 cabins in her lifetime, all while raising her five sons and daughter as a single mother. Feeding six kids off of the land in and of its self is an impressive task, but to single handedly build 3 cabins while also becoming one of the most sought after artists in Alaska is beyond impressive.

                Reba’s determination and work ethic was forged in the wild Alaskan frontier just outside of Huslia, Alaska. Delivered and raised in a cabin by her father and mother with her 13 brothers and sisters. Being raised in this environment produced a truly unique individual. Her immediate family was all she knew during childhood; they developed their own unique accent, mannerisms, inside jokes, and spoke hybrid language of English and Athabascan. Her brothers and sisters were her friends and playmates, but at times when food was scarce they were her rivals. Jockeying for position in the family hierarchy helped her developed keen negotiating skills at a young age. Being raised so far away from civilization also gave her what most considered a rebellions nature, but obeying laws and speaking politely can seem frivolous to a person who had to stare down death and starvation.

                Behind Alaska’s picturesque beauty lies a harsh unforgiving land that will steal the breath of anyone foolish enough to venture into the untamed wilderness ill prepared; Reba having lived in this wilderness her entire life had her fair share of near death experiences. One cold and bitter evening while out trapping for food to feed her children she had fallen through the ice. When she became immersed in that piercing cold water and her muscles contracted painfully she was ready to make peace and die. But just as she was about to relax she thought “I can’t die, I’ve got kids at home” and summoning superhuman maternal power she scraped her way back on top of the ice and ran 5 miles back home sopping wet in the winter snow.

                Starvation being an ever present danger in the isolated wilderness and having 6 children with insatiable appetite Reba was constantly on the move looking for meat. She didn’t concern herself with hunting regulations and laws; instead she followed tradition: take what presents its self but be respectful to the animal and use every part. She crafted anything and everything she could imagine with the animals she harvested. At first making traditional clothes and other crafted necessities passed down for generations. But as times changed, demand for native trinkets dwindled and was replaced by a desire for art. Reba adapted, using her skills she crafted highly unique and sought after pieces.

                Consumption of animals at such a high rate necessitates a nomadic lifestyle and like her ancestors before her she traveled across the vast state of Alaska and parts of Canada. Fish camp in the summer, trap line in the winter, hunting in the fall, and occasionally to the cities to sell her wares at bazaars and festivals. But even nomads need a place to call home so Reba built her first cabin in Eagle a village right next to the Canadian border. Eagle was perfectly suited to her lifestyle; the Yukon River was full of rich and tasty salmon, there were elders who taught her the things that took them a lifetime to master, it was remote but there was a steady stream of tourists to buy her crafts, and in the mountains roamed Dall Sheep.

                She loved the mountains and loved the flavor of wild sheep, hunting them was her passion and she became an expert in all things sheep hunting. She learned the sheep’s behavior, became a crack shot, and most importantly she taught herself how to make it back home. She knew that navigating the Alaskan mountain ranges and tundra is dangerous and deceptive. The undulating landscape can pull you in; just when you think you are about reach the peak, another horizon taunts you in the distance. The vast landscape and rising mountains play tricks on perception making a day’s journey look like a quick walk around the bend. To make it back to camp Reba came up with a trick, she would nestle her camp between two distinct mountains with a third in the middle far off in the distance, in this way she could make it back even when caught up in the thrill of the hunt, all she had to do was line up the mountains like a gun sight and follow them back to camp.

                After a few years of living and raising her family in Eagle, Reba’s first cabin burnt down. It’s unclear how the fire started, some say it was an accident others say it was arson. With limited resources in remote Alaskan villages criminal investigations can be difficult. Nonetheless Reba rebuilt her cabin and continued on with her life. When disaster struck Eagle in the form of an ice jam Reba did the best to help the other villagers. Reba’s cabin was untouched by the flood but Eagle was devastated, it wasn’t the same village anymore and she decided to build a new cabin in Toke. It was in this cabin that she brought her children to adulthood, paid off her debts, continued to on to become a renowned artist, and eventually died.

                In the winter of 2016 Reba was shot by her own son Eli. As of me writing this he still hasn’t gone to trial and the full story is unknown. As I sit here in Reba’s cabin writing this contemplating what would drive a son to murder his own mother, a few theories come to mind. I know that Reba struggled with mental illness, something that could have been exacerbated by isolation. I also know that she was a hard woman; she pushed her children to work doggedly because that’s how she knew to survive. I also know that her children loved her and that she was suffering in her old age. She could no longer live the lifestyle she was used to; she couldn’t do the sheep hunts that she loved so much but she was too stubborn to leave that life behind. Whether what Eli did was out of hated, insanity, or loving mercy is something that only he knows. His siblings still love him and I cannot judge him, I’ve often romanticized the notion of wandering off into the mountains to die when my body gives up on me; but would I have the courage to do so? The book “Two Old Women” comes to mind, where a family is forced to leave behind their ailing grandmothers to die because they can no longer keep up with the Alaskan Native nomadic lifestyle.

                Reba’s cabin is beautiful and stands as a testament to a strong woman who chose to live off the land in the old ways while the rest of us chose to move on to the comforts of modern living. I hope that someday her children will find the strength to return to it. It’s an old native tradition that when some dies their belongings are burnt. In the driveway sits a pile of ashes where you can see the remains of guns, craft tools, hiking gear, and keepsakes. Maybe this was Eli’s way of keeping the old traditions? Maybe he knew not to burn down the cabin and everything else because he knew that she would want to pass that down to her children and grandchildren? I can only speculate. Maybe one day they will return to it and maintain it but for now it sits alone waiting for curious explorers who might happen by.

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                The story of Reba’s Cabin is very personal to me because she was my auntie. Just like Reba my mother also was an artist who lived off of the land and she also struggled with mental illness. My mother Thelma was in the process of building her own cabin in the woods somewhere by Talkeetna when she was suddenly changed forever by mental illness. I was only 8 years old when I watched my mother turn into a shambling shell, and although she did get better with time I knew that the loving, happy, energetic mother I had grown up with would never return. It was comforting to see Reba continuing to live her life the same way my mother wanted to. So when Reba suddenly passed it hit me hard because it was like losing my mother all over again.

                As I said before Reba was an outspoken woman and in the lawless Alaskan land she caused much controversy by calling out the wrongs that she saw. Her credibility was tarnished by her mental illness but for those of us who have lived in rural Alaska, we know that many wrongs go unpunished. In these small tight nit communities where everyone knows everyone it can be hard to get people to speak out against their own family and friends. If a brother murders a brother no one wants to say anything because that means losing two family members. It’s also the nature of clever predators that they ingratiate themselves in the community making it harder for their victims to speaking out against them.

                It might be surprising for some to learn that behind the friendly and inviting faces of small Alaskan communities there are dark secrets but people hide skeletons no matter where you go. While interviewing and researching I struggled with how to present the things that were brought to me. Having worked as a counselor in Alaska I also know that these issues exist throughout the state. I was originally going to write a book but decided against it, everyone was coming to me with dirty laundry that they wanted hung out for the world to see. Reba had a very hard life but I don’t feel that a book would be a good format to talk about these issues.

                I admire Reba for her outspoken nature and willingness to call out wrongs but I also that feel she came on too strong and aggressive. I don’t blame her though; victims have a right to be angry when they see their perpetrators being protected by the community. Things have gotten better in Alaska and there are many people working to strengthen our communities but there are still many criminals that are victimizing our villages. I encourage Alaskans to start a discussion in their communities in a respectful and civil way on how to deal with crime.