GUEST BLOG: Careful out there! Three historical approaches to health care in Alaska

After a long delay, partially a result of the global COVID-19 pandemic, we’re back! This post is written by guest blogger Shealyn Golden, a curatorial assistant in the Ethnology & History department. Shealyn recently installed an exhibit of historical medical supplies on the 4th floor at the UAF Rasmuson Library.

The history of medicine can be thought of in many different ways. Wacky, primitive, askew, deceptive, and dangerous are all words that have been applied to historical medical practices. However, the sentiment these words imply is often reductive and misses the truth. While there have been many “snake oil salesmen” and medical practices based on incorrect thought processes throughout history, most medical practitioners were genuinely trying their best. Unfortunately, they lacked the scientific understanding and necessary equipment to practice evidence based medicine, which is the gold standard for modern biomedical techniques (aka “Western medicine”). In the absence of modern gold-standard practices, medical practitioners largely relied on the assumption that anything that provoked a noticeable effect had medicinal qualities; these were generally emetics, laxatives, diuretics, and anything that could cause an altered state of mind.

The collection of Western health care objects at the University of Alaska Museum of the North showcases health care practices over roughly a 150-year period. The earliest pieces in the collection date to the 1880’s while the most recent were collected in the last few years as part of the COVID-19 project. Like the majority of the collection in the Ethnology and History Department, the objects in the health care collection were collected in Alaska and Northern Canada. 

The museum’s collection also has items related to Indigenous health care practices. These practices and perspectives are beyond the scope of this post. If you are interested in Alaska Native concepts of health and wellness, please visit the website for the Center for Alaska Native Health Research.

Map showing routes from San Francisco to Alaska and the Yukon, 1897. Rare Maps Collection, Alaska & Polar Regions Collections, UAF-M0434.

The earliest objects in the health care collection likely came north as part of the Alaskan Gold Rush, which lasted from approximately 1887 to 1914 and had two main “waves,” one to the Klondike area and a second to the areas north of Nome. Although the Klondike is actually in Canada, it is still considered by many to be part of the Alaskan Gold Rush for three main reasons: first, some of the earliest miners to head to the Klondike were residents of Circle City, Alaska; second, of the most-used routes to the Klondike area, three went partially through Alaska, bolstering the economy in the areas along the route; and third, the Klondike Gold Rush was responsible for the beginning of the population boom that concluded after the rush to Nome. Like gold rushes in other areas, people got word that gold could be found in the Klondike, and later Nome, and flocked to the area to seek out their fortunes. But moving into arctic and subarctic climates can be both difficult and dangerous, and the majority of people who came north were both ill-prepared and ill-equipped.

A “fair” staker, 1898. Wickersham State Historic Site, Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277. Alaska State Library – Historical Collections.

While mining out in the wilderness, individuals and small groups needed to be able to tend to their own health care. Today, even with the advantage of modern communication and transportation technology, Emergency Medical Services in Alaska and Canada can take multiple hours to get to their patients simply due to how remote their patients sometimes are. Modern hikers and backpackers often have extensive first aid kits, in case they need to hold themselves over until they can get professional medical help. 

To make it easier for people heading into the Klondike to outfit themselves, many “druggists” made their own Klondike Medicine Chests. These chests were filled with all of the medical equipment and medicinal supplies considered necessary for miners, trappers, tourists, and anyone else going into areas where they would be responsible for their own medical needs. Like most medicine chests, the Klondike Medicine Chest was stocked mostly with painkillers (primarily cannabis and different formulations of opium) and sundry laxatives. By the 1880s the value of antiseptics was more widely accepted in the medical community, so various antiseptics (ostensibly for different applications) were also included, as well as items for packing and covering injuries.

This Klondike Medicine Chest was made by Evans and Sons Limited, likely in Canada between 1889-1906. This chest was originally filled with the items listed in the inventory, which were, unfortunately, missing upon donation. However, many of the individual pieces have a counterpart in the museum collection. View this spreadsheet for the original inventory and comparable items in our collection.

Many modern cities in Alaska were founded and/or experienced a population boom due to the search for gold. Fairbanks is one such city, where a permanent settlement was founded in 1902 after gold was discovered by Italian immigrant Felix Pedro, né Felice Pedroni. As the population grew, support services for the new residents also moved in. Homes, schools, churches, banks, saloons, a library, a hospital, and various shops and markets were all established within a decade of the gold strike. 

Christmas street scene in downtown Fairbanks, 1909. McIntosh and Kubon Prescription Druggists visible at right. Albert Johnson Photograph Collection. UAF-1989-166-205-Print. UAF Archives.

One of the shops that was opened was the drug store of McIntosh and Kubon. John McIntosh (the UA Regent for whom McIntosh Hall on the UAF campus is named) came to Fairbanks in 1904 after having been in the Klondike (specifically Dawson) for eight years. While in Dawson, McIntosh had worked with Ralph Kubon, and in 1909 the two opened McIntosh and Kubon in Fairbanks. At McIntosh and Kubon, and the other pharmacies that were opened in Fairbanks, people could purchase the various medical items they needed for home use, as well as other sundries such as safety pins, tobacco, razors, and toiletries. 

In 1942, McIntosh & Kubon was sold to Wilbur Walker & Fred Pearson. This full-page newspaper ad was placed by the new owners before they closed McIntosh & Kubon and reopened it as the Co-op Drug Store in what is now the historic Co-op Plaza on Second Avenue. (“Clearance Sale.” Fairbanks Daily News Miner, 2 September 1936)

This photograph shows glass prescription bottles from the Red Cross Drug Store (top row) and the McIntosh & Kubon Drug Store (bottom row), two of the most prominent pharmacies in operation during the early years of Fairbanks. These bottles were part of the last donation to the collection from the late Candy Waugaman, a local Fairbanks historian.

This bottle of Mercurochrome was found in a building on 2nd Ave in Fairbanks which was reported to have possibly been a pharmacy. The McIntosh & Kubon Drug Store used a building on 2nd, which was taken over by the Red Cross Drug Store when McIntosh & Kubon moved. At some point the building was back in the hands of McIntosh & Kubon, and then was used as a warehouse by a local business for many years. Along with the bottle of Mercurochrome, a glass prescription bottle from the McIntosh & Kubon Drug Store was also found. It is unknown if the building where the bottle was found was the same building used by McIntosh & Kubon or the Red Cross Drug Store; however, given the presence of the prescription bottle, it seems a definite possibility. UA87-015-0006

At the same time that the early pharmacies were opening in Fairbanks, the field of “community health” was really taking hold in many locations in the Western world. Community health is the idea that the health of the whole community can be maintained by each member of that community doing their part (such as isolating if you know you have an infectious disease). One profession that came out of the idea of community health was the Public Health Nurse. The first Public Health Nurses were working in New York in the 1890’s. In Alaska, there were eleven Public Health Nurses working for the Department of Health and Social Services by 1938.

The advent of the professional position of “Public Health Nurse” was a big step in making health care more accessible. The Public Health Nurse (PHN) went into the community to see their patients, instead of requiring patients to travel from their community. Because they went to their patients, they were able to directly interact with people who were unable (or unlikely) to go to a larger health center, such as a clinic. However, this also meant that they had to work under the assumption that they would be providing medical care alone. This is similar to the assumption surrounding the Klondike Medicine Chest. Unlike the Klondike Medicine Chest, which was primarily intended for a self-administration, the contents of the Public Health Nurse’s bag were assembled for use by a trained medical professional working with patients.

A PHN was often the primary medical professional that members of their community interacted with. PHN’s had many duties: they provided care for a range of illnesses and conditions, were often the first Western medical professional to see a baby after they were born, provided education regarding Western concepts of cleanliness and hygiene, and did prophylactic examinations of adults, children, and infants. Through the education and care they provided, Public Health Nurses were major contributors to maintaining the health of a community. In many areas of the world, Public Health Nurses increased the life expectancy and decreased the disease load of the communities they served. Today, there are still Public Health Nurses working in Alaska and all over the world.

This Public Health Nurse’s Bag is one type that was used by PHN’s to carry their equipment. The inside lining, which has loops and compartments of different sizes to hold the equipment in place, is held in place by snaps. The lining could be unsnapped, removed from the bag, and laid out flat. This photo shows how the Public Health Nurses’ bag arrived at the museum. As part of collection care, all objects have been removed from the bag to be given their own appropriate housing. UA84-024-0001 See the full list of items in this bag here.

Jim Fuska found this bone saw while working on his mining claim on Friday Creek in what was McKinley Park. The claim had previously been worked by Fannie and Joe Quigley, two fascinating Alaskan pioneers. On May 21, 1930, Joe Quigley was caught in a tunnel collapse and was transported to the hospital in Fairbanks to receive care. Mr. Fuska believes that Joe received this bone saw as a souvenir during his hospital stay.

This pair of dental pliers, collected in Chicken, Alaska, was donated to the Museum in 1967. The donor reported that they belonged to “Dr. Faulkner, an itinerant dentist,” likely referring to Dr. G. M. Faulker, a dentist by trade who was also the American vice-consul at the Dawson, Yukon, Canada office until the office closed in 1915. Dr. Faulkner died in Chicken on September 5, 1924 during a visit with a patient. His death was reported as “evidently without pain.”

Fellows Syrup was originally marketed as a cure for ailments of the lungs; it seems to have been first sold in 1884. In 1918, the Journal of the American Medical Association published that there was no evidence that the Syrup had any therapeutic value. Within a decade, the company no longer advertised any curative effect, but was still selling the Syrup as a tonic. It is unclear when production stopped, but use of strychnine was restricted by the FDA in 1978.

Headache powders consisted primarily of caffeine and aspirin. Most headache powders were only sold locally, usually by the individual pharmacy that had compounded the medication. Garfield Headache Powder is an exception; this headache powder was sold internationally along with the company’s most popular product, Garfield Tea. Sample packets like this one were included in the packaging with the company’s other products.

Some blood tests could be done in the field, but that meant that the blood needed to be collected. This kit would have been used together with the Lab Kit (UA84-024-0014AL) to perform those tests. The syringe, plunger, and needles could all be sterilized and reused. The needles would be sharpened by hand with a whetstone, likely between each patient.

This mobile lab kit allowed healthcare workers to perform certain blood tests away from a larger medical center. This kit is specifically for the Sahil method of hemoglobin estimation. The donor also stated that it may have been used to test for hematocrit.

All the items in this post can be viewed at the UAF Rasmuson Library, 4th floor exhibit case. Detailed records are viewable online in our collection database here: https://arctos.database.museum/saved/Loan202234EH

#SaveOurMuseum – an Update

Happy August to everyone. I wanted to give a quick update about the goings-on relating to my post. First off, THANK YOU to everyone who provided responses here or sent messages of support for the UA Museum of the North. It has been so heartwarming to hear from our colleagues all over the world telling our Regents and Legislators how much our museum, and museums like us, matter to society. On Monday, the UA Board of Regents met for six hours to discuss how to move forward with the $135 million cut to our state appropriation and to directly address the Office of Management and Budget’s proposal to zero out all state funding for research at UAF and the museum. Two separate regents on three different occasions spoke with passion about the value of the museum and our collections, for preserving our cultural heritage and for holding a long record of the natural and cultural history of Alaska. No other single university unit received such a positive and strong presence at the meeting. This is certainly in part due to the advocacy efforts of our colleagues. Thank you for your efforts.

Moving forward, we believe the immediate threat to the Museum is over for the moment, but sadly not completely eliminated. As our director has stated to staff, cuts are inevitable and how much of a burden our museum will carry as part of the reduced funding to the entire University is not clear yet. Much of it depends on how our governor proceeds with the appropriation bill sitting on his desk. If anyone is still interesting in writing letters of support for the UAMN, we are encouraging them to be directed to our Board of Regents and the University President, Jim Johnsen. As the University looks toward consolidation across our massive system, letters that speak to the value of the museum and our collections can only help us retain a spot of prominence and value in the new organization.

Thank you again for the show of support on such short notice. And because I take care of the History collections at UAMN, I am of course keeping copies of these letters to document this particular chapter in the history of the museum and the university.

With deepest gratitude and humility, we turn the page for our next phase of work.

The Taft Tusk and its Crazy History

The Seattle Sunday Times, Oct. 16, 1910

“FAIRBANKS MEN SEND TAFT MASTODON TUSK — A section of mastodon tusk twenty-five inches long, crusted with bas-reliefs wrought in unalloyed Alaska gold that form an epitome of gold mining in the Interior North, is an heroically proportioned desk ornament citizens of the Tanana Valley are sending to President W.H. Taft. This presentation is intended to mark the recent visit to Fairbanks of Secretary of Commerce and Labor Charles Nagel and Attorney-General George Wickersham, personally representing the chief executive. While the cabinet officials were at Fairbanks they were lavishly entertained, and became popular. At a big reception one evening, the suggestion was made by a wealthy mine owner that a symbolical souvenir be sent to President Taft as a token of appreciation.”

So begins the Seattle Times article about what would come to be known as “The Taft Tusk.” According to the article, J.L. Sale, a jeweler called “the Tiffany of the North” was to produce “the most elaborate memento ever sent out of Alaska.” When the Times interviewed Sales about the tusk, he said “It is simply a great piece of mastodon ivory, mounted with gold. The ivory was dug from a mine, where the tusk had lain for hundreds of years. It is a beautiful piece. It’s striking characteristics of color being brought out effectively by polishing.” Presumably President Taft received the tusk and the people of Fairbanks were satisfied that they had represented our community and our economy.

Ivory tusk of a walrus which was carved by an Eskimo and presented to President Taft. Alaska United States, ca. 1900. [Between and Ca. 1930] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/99614746/. (Accessed July 28, 2017.)

Fast-forward to 1943, when the President of the Fairbanks Chamber of Commerce received a letter from Murray Galleries in Washington D.C., offering to sell a recently acquired desk set from the estate of the late Ex-President William H. Taft. “We are of the opinion that it would be of historic interest to the city of Fairbanks, and for that reason we are offering it to you prior to placing it in our general stock.” The asking price was $1000 plus 10% Federal excise tax. Several weeks later, the Chamber of Commerce wrote to the son of President Taft, Senator Robert A. Taft. “We did this out of respect for your father and the high office to which he had been elected, believing that he would get some pleasure from the souvenir and that his heirs would treasure such a gift and keep it as a family possession as long as the Taft family existed. We are disappointed to learn that this gift of the people of Fairbanks, Alaska has been sold to the Murray Galleries in Washington and that it is now being by them for sale on a strictly commercial basis.”

Through a cordial series of communications, the Taft children purchased the desk set back from the gallery and donated it to the University Museum in Fairbanks, in order to be exhibited with a short history of the presentation by the people of Fairbanks to President Taft. The desk set arrived in Fairbanks and promptly went on exhibit in a glass case, where it was “quite the center of attraction. Our mining men are greatly interested in this work of art,” according to President Charles Bunnell, who received the gift. A story appeared in the August 1, 1944 copy of the Farthest-North Collegian (p. 6). It’s here where the first inconsistency appears.

The Farthest-North Collegian,  August 1, 1944, page 6.

The caption and headline of the article describes the tusk as being made from a “walrus tusk” while the original 1910 article from the Seattle Times clearly identifies the tusk as mastodon. This early photograph shows the details on the piece. One particular image does made it appear to be walrus ivory, though it is often impossible to tell the difference without close examination.

Detail of tusk (catalog number 0267-4176) and gold overlay. Notice the mottled appearance of the ivory to the left of the mountain. This may confirm the tusk as being made from walrus, not mastodon, ivory. UAMN Photo.

The tusk remained in its place of honor in the museum for many years, appreciated by visitors and student alike. The beginning of another controversy began to bubble to the surface sometime in the 1960s. In a 1968 article of Jessen’s Daily (Wednesday, Mar. 27, 1968, p. 9) Harry Avakoff describes his career as a jeweler in Fairbanks, counting as one of his major accomplishments as being “commissioned by Tanana Valley citizens to make a gold inkwell for President Taft.”

Then, on the morning of April 8, 1969, University of Alaska Museum Director Lu Rowinski opened the museum at 8:00 am and discovered the tusk had been stolen. A $100 reward was offered for information leading to the return of the tusk, “no questions asked,” according to the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner article. People at the time were concerned that the thief would melt down the gold in order to sell it more quickly.

A search of online newspaper articles reveals that only months later, Andrew Hehlin was arrested after the Alaska State Troopers recovered five car loads of stolen property, which included the gold figurines from the desk set, but not the ivory tusk. According to Glen Simpson, who was then a faculty member in the UAF art department and commissioned to repair the desk set in 1973, the museum had acquired a large number of walrus tusks from Barrow, thinking one might have the right contours to match the gold overlay. However, no tusk could be found and so instead, Simpson carved a replacement tusk of walnut. The desk set was returned to the museum and was included in the July 27, 1973 opening of the C.J. Berry Gold Room.

One might think this was the end of the story. The tusk was back on exhibit for the public to enjoy. However, there remained, even until 1999, some disagreements regarding the true artist responsible for the design and fabrication of the tusk: J.L. Sale or Harry Avakoff. Avakoff was quoted in a number of newspaper articles on file at the museum, that one of his life’s greatest accomplishments was being commissioned to make the tusk. In 1983, Emily Avakoff, Harry’s widow, visited the director of the museum and expressed her concern that the tusk label did not credit her late husband as the artist. A number of letters and supporting documentation was exchanged, and a pair of hand-written notes with no dates indicate that “Jack Sale” made the tusk, owned the Fairbanks jewelry store where Avakoff, as well as Vic Brown, were employed. “He did some work on the tusk,” says one note, indicating that both men were associated with the fabrication of the work of art.

In the end, the museum records cite both men as the creators of the desk set, as well as Glen Simpson. The piece has been on continuous exhibit, with the exception of the brief hiatus between 1969-1973, since its 1944 donation and forms the centerpiece of our gold case in the Gallery of Alaska. You can see the catalog record and some of those records in our museum database here.

As part of our Gallery of Alaska renovation project, the gold case was opened for photography and cleaning. Here I am removing the Taft Tusk from its mount. UAF Photo by Todd Paris.

 

Best in the West (or why I love WMA so much)

Each year, we compare and contrast the various options for professional conferences to attend. Meager funding means it better be of use to both my home institution as well as my own personal growth. In 2015, I opted for two – Museums Alaska (as outgoing President it’s pretty much required) and Western Museums Association (WMA).

Our official #WMA2015 Facebook profile photo.

WMA 2015 took place in sunny San Jose, a community I visited for the first time in January of 2015. This is my first full year as a member of the Board of Directors of WMA and a January meeting at the conference hotel of the upcoming meeting is a tradition. With that two-day visit I was able to connect with members of the board and strike up some professional relationships that have already borne fruit. But what that visit really did was prepare me for the October conference by orienting me to the immediate area around the hotel and give me a taste of the community.

 

By the time October arrived, I was still reeling from a busy 4 days in Cordova for Museums Alaska, only three weeks prior. But my colleague, Della Hall, and I were ready to have a repeat performance as roomies and I was signed up to be her official conference mentor. Another UAMN colleague, Jonah Wright, was attending WMA for his first time and we were excited to absorb as much as possible over three days.

Della, Jonah, and I enjoying music in the lobby of the Fairview.

Over a period of three days, Jonah, Della, and I each experienced our own unique conference – Jonah attended exhibit-focused sessions, Della and I went to collections sessions [two really generated a ton of discussion and thought: Understanding Image Copyright (is it possible?) and Long-Term Thinking about Collections Stewardship]. This year I yearned for more of the leadership track, and so I absorbed what I could from some of those I look to in our region as the movers and shakers, in sessions like Leading from the Position You Are In, Defining Leadership Across Generational Divides, and The Challenges of Leadership: Working with Governing Bodies. Each session gave me food-for-thought about how I want my career to blossom, identifying my own weaknesses and how to turn them around, as well as giving me a chance to acknowledge my own experiences and expertise as valuable. Rather than presenting at WMA 2015, I took on a role of inquirer. This year, I felt I was able to ask the questions many might be thinking, to dig deeper and get at the big questions of “why” and “how.” I was rewarded with answers that got many of us thinking and talking after the sessions.

A conference theme of “Listen – Learn – Lead” can take you in many directions if you let it. I love WMA conferences for this – whatever your entry point and level, you are able to step into a topic and get something valuable, bring it home, and put it to use. I reconnected with people I hadn’t seen in many years, from my RC-WR officer days, and made new connections with emerging professionals and esteemed leaders alike.

I now feel energized to go into the 2016 conference in Phoenix, ready to take on the conference theme of “Change“. This is a hard thing for an industry steeped in tradition, “best practices,” and “professional standards.” How can we push ourselves to grow and get better, while keeping true to our past? This is something I’ll be thinking a lot about in the next year.

Thanks #WMA2015 – you were a blast!

 

 

Back in the Saddle Again

“Ph.D. Student”

This fall I took a monumental step in forwarding my education and career – in the spring of 2014 I was notified that I had been accepted into UAF’s Interdisciplinary Ph.D. program under the approved heading of Museum Studies, with a committee made up of some academic greats at UAF: Dr. Mary Ehrlander (my chair), Dr. Terrence Cole, Dr. Aldona Jonaitis, and Dr. Mike Koskey. Rounding out the committee with an old friend and great colleague, Dr. Holly Cusack McVeigh from Indiana University – Purdue University Indianapolis.

My first class – NORS 461/661 History of Alaska  – was taught by Dr. Terrence Cole. What a great way to jump back into the classroom and into a topic that I had never formally studied, despite the fact that I had cared for thousands of historical objects and curated two special exhibitions that were historical in nature. After completing the class and reading hundreds (thousands?) of pages in our textbooks, articles, and additional books for the graduate portion of the class, I came to the conclusion that I love Alaska history and the project that I have concocted for this Ph.D. is going to be compelling and valuable and interesting and full of incredible stories. I can’t wait!

However… I will be undertaking this adventure while continuing to work full-time at the Museum, sooooo, it’s a long-term project with a completion goal of 2020 (a nice round number). If all goes as planned, I’ll have that Ph.D. before I turn 50 – which is also a nice round number.

The most important thing that I’ve realized is that I love my job more than ever before. I have a supportive network of people who are willing to contribute their ideas, stories, and perspectives to the mystery I’m attempting to uncover. I hope I can do them justice, and that through this undertaking, I can add something to our understanding of Alaska’s museums and help us all know more about the direction we want to go in the future.

It’s Worth How Much?!?!?!?

This morning, while I chatted with my 3-1/2 year old son over coffee, my husband shared a story he was reading on the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner’s website. The AP story, “Rare century-old $5 Alaska bill to be auctioned” by Rachel D’Oro, described an upcoming auction sale of an extraordinarily rare piece of Alaskan paper currency. My husband knew about a similar piece that we had accessioned back in 2009, which I have shared with the Tanana Yukon Historical Society as well as the Fairbanks Coin Club in past presentations. At each presentation (the TYHS presentation only included a photo while the FCC folks got to see the real thing in person) viewers were in awe of the perfect specimen in our collection.

The history of our $5 bank note is mostly blank: we received it from former UAF Rasmuson Library Alaska and Polar Regions archivist, Anne Foster, as a “found in collection” piece. We have a standing MOA with the library that states that all photographic, manuscript, and other similar items (i.e., items that contain information) are to be curated at the archives while all 3D and object-type things (i.e., more ephemeral or decorative items) come to the Museum to be curated. As a result of this agreement, the archives staff and I are old friends and are always calling each other up with statements like, “Hey, I found this thing in the collection and I think it needs to come to you. When will you be near the library/museum next?” So when a unique $5 bank note showed up in a box of items from Anne, I was not surprised to learn that they had no information associated with it and we started our own internal research to accompany our Preliminary Justification Form to the Museum’s acquisitions committee.

Having just come back from maternity leave, I had my student, Micole VanWalbeek do that web-based research. What she found included an auction sale of the same (P)7718 stamp and red seal, but a serial number and different signatures. The number in the upper right corner was also different. That particular $5 note sold for $27,600 in 2006. I promptly put our bill into our vault.

The story in today’s paper describes a bill seemingly identical to ours. Upon closer comparison, the only difference seems to be a small “B” on our bill, as compared to the “C” on the bill up for auction, the plate designation. The auction house representative quoted in the article describes there being only four of these bills printed.

So this is sometimes how the documentation about items in museum history collections is collected. My file on this piece now has twice the number of citations as before. The catalog entry in my database will be much more rich, and our insurance assessment will be much more accurate. Guess I’ll keep my eyes on this story, and others, that are connected to this early form of paper currency in Fairbanks.