I’ve just returned from a cruise to South-Eastern Alaska with my wife (Kat), kids, mother, and in-laws.  When the ship docked in Skagway, Kat and I needed a little time away from the cruise crowds so we ferried to Haines, AK, near the northern end of the “inside passage.”  Haines is a “typical” small Alaskan town, very reminiscent of that old TV series “Northern Exposure“.

Walking around Haines we met Christy, the owner of the Pioneer Hotel and Bamboo Room restaurant - her Dad purchased the hotel and bar in the 1930’s.  Eating the excellent fish at the Bamboo Room we had a great conversation with Cat, a recent arrival from LA, now waiting tables in Haines.  We wound up offering anger management advice to a shop owner with an employee in trouble, love advice to the mayor, and chatting up the brew-master, Paul, at the Haines Brewing Company.  We met a guy carving a totem pole and another carving a dugout canoe.  We led an impromptu sing-along at the Mountain Market (Bye, Bye Miss American Pie…)  People were consistently warm and friendly, and it got me thinking about communities.

Haines is a small town where it seemed that everyone knows everyone.  Situated where the Lynn Canal meets the Lutak inlet, near the Chilkat and Chilkoot valleys (home to 2000+ bald eagles) and amidst some of the most beautiful scenery imaginable, Haines has one supermarket, no movie theaters, no mall, no hospital, no Wal-Mart, no Starbucks or McDonalds.  On the other hand, it has snow capped mountains, bald eagles, black bears and brown bears, whales, otters, salmon, deer, moose, waterfalls, lakes, miles of trails and seemingly endless wilderness right in their front yards.

When the 4 months of the tourist season ends, and the weather begins to get cold, Haines can be a pretty “frontier” place to live.  Ferry and plane schedules are at the mercy of winter weather.  If you get severely hurt or ill, your hospital is a plane-ride away in Juneau.  If your boat capsizes, you can only last a few minutes in the icy water.  Have an accident while hiking and no one may find you until the spring thaw, if then.  It’s been known to snow more than 200 inches in the winter.  The logging industry has gone away, as has the mining industry, so there aren’t many jobs not related to tourism.

Maybe that’s one reason everyone was so genuinely welcoming to us.  To live in Haines is to need the support of your community.  People who will help you dig out after a snow storm.  People who will take care of your property when you have to fly your kid to Juneau for an appendectomy. People who will mourn with you when your loved one doesn’t make it back from gillnetting.

Wikipedia defines “community” as a group of interacting organisms sharing an environment or, in sociological terms, a group of interacting people living in a common location.  Communities can be based on many different foundations - e.g., geography, shared intention or values, preferences.   I see my communities as circles within circles (like the image of an archery target).

No matter how I define community - by geography, by shared intention or values, by preference - at the center, the bullseye of my target,  is my immediate family.  I’m a part of so many communities it’s hard to name them all - my extended family, my neighborhood, my dearest friends, all my friends, my co-workers, my clients, participants in my workshops, the sports teams I like (go Niners), my state and national allegiances (I’m proud to be an American), and so many more.

Oh yeah, and you.