8707 is a constant reminder of my childhood memories in 1960s South Anchorage.

Those rusty iron numbers were originally welded to the top of the Jensen mailbox along Lake Otis Road. Just two lanes, Lake Otis ended at Abbott Road and dissolved into a narrow utility trail that went on far as anyone might wish to walk. To the left and right of the trail, thin black spruce barely survived in the bog. Small ponds along the trail were rich with frogs, tadpoles and mosquitos during the summer months.

Wildlife was part of our every day routine. Moose were as common as they are today. We admired as they waded in the swamp, something that would be called a wetland these days. We hollered when they chewed on mom’s flowers or apple tree. Hummingbirds were spotted in her begonias at least once each year.

To the best of my knowledge, bears were around but they rarely visited our log house or our neighbor's home which was owned by C.W. “Johnny” Johnson. He was a great neighbor. He helped care for our pony and goat along with his own horse on the combined properties. He forged and welded the "8707" as a gift. And, he plowed our driveway in exchange for conversations and scotch in no particular order. He appreciated my parents knack for pouring heavy.

I walked back and forth past the livestock each and every day while delivering the Anchorage Daily News at 6 a.m. and the Anchorage Times around 4:30 p.m. The newspapers arrived in flat bundles tied with two thin plastic bands. Before heading out to deliveries, I folded the papers into perfect cylinders. Rainy or snowy days, I’d stuff them into colorful plastic bags. My route averaged 30 homes twice a day. That same route today would include hundreds of homes.

The paper deliveries were made easier on my bike in the summer and by pulling a plastic sled full of newspapers in the winter. I bought the bike, and eventually a motorcycle from my newspaper earnings. I think the worst part of being a newspaper boy was collecting payment, but that’s another story.

I never worried about wildlife when delivering newspapers. I was more concerned with loose dog packs. Of course, we didn’t have social media to broadcast every bear encounter or sighting to the world. They probably happened more often than I knew.

Occasionally, we worried about porcupines that might intersect with the labradors. And, there were the bothersome squirrels who loved nesting in the attic. The squirrels seemed especially interested in shredding the Perry Como, Burl Ives and Ella Fitzgerald album jackets not to mention the Christmas ornaments stored up in that musty, cobwebbed loft.

When mom, dad and our neighbor decided to subdivide their combined 10 acres, it whipped up a lot of controversy not too unlike the buzz that went around when KFQD placed a radio tower at the corner of Lake Otis and Abbott. We thought the tower was fine because it might improve our radio reception including Herb Shaindlin’s Friday evening “Desperate and Dateless” radio talk show in the ‘70s. Oddly, it turned out that having a radio tower just two blocks away does not necessarily improve your reception. Back to the main point, the fuss about developing the Jensen and Johnson properties came from those who did not want to see houses built. We always wondered if they thought about how their own homes came to be.

These days, I drive down what is is now called Lake Otis Parkway. I reminisce about our cabin and one evening in particular. Dad was stirring upstairs. I got up from bed to see what he was up to. He was looking South to the mountains from our living room picture window. Dad motioned to me to come over to see something. He pointed to a twinkling light on the hillside. It was a new house. It wasn’t the first home up there, but it was the first time we could see one in the evening. It was a visible sign of the progress that was coming.

The moose, bear, squirrels, porcupine and hummingbirds are still around to this day. And now, I’m living in one of those homes with an evening light twinkling on the hillside. I love Alaska and all it has given me. I hope the same comes true for today’s young Alaskans in the decades to follow. I know those great memories are waiting to be made. It's up to all of us to make that happen.

dj