Mar 29, 2013 | Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
Clarissa and Ann Smith enjoy one anothers’ company at the Grand Opening of the Kwaanlin Dun Cultural Center during the annual Adaka Festival, Whitehorse, Yukon Territory – 2012
Whenever I begin weaving a Chilkat robe, I give thanks to Ann Smith, Kwaanlin Dun Wolf Clan from Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. I am remembering a life-turning conversation and experience I had with her. While it is true Jennie Thlunaut taught me how to weave Chilkat, and I will forever be thankful for the gift Jennie entrusted to me; it was Ann who inspired me to weave Chilkat robes.
In 1992, during a month-long Chilkat Weavers’ Gathering hosted by Darlene See, Ann was beginning the weaving of her first robe; she had the top 6 inches or so of the border completed. I hadn’t woven a Chilkat robe yet. At the time, I had no desire to weave Chilkat robes; I imagined myself on the path of weaving smaller pieces that accentuated modern-day clothing – yokes, cuffs, collars, lapels, etc.
I asked Ann why she wanted to weave robes at a time when it seemed like people didn’t appreciate them, much less even know how much time and dedication this type of weaving takes. She replied calmly and quietly “…Clarissa…it’s like this…we have to re-educate our people of not just the design and technique of weaving,…we have to educate them of the value…we have lost our knowledge of this art form and we have to gain back so much more than just that…” I added with a big sigh: “…well, Ann, that is a big task for us to tackle, don’t you think…?” To which she replied: “…well, that’s a choice we make. We are at a place in our lives where we can make that difference. What better choice to make than to be of service to our people who need this kind of strength in our lives…”
I asked her about working on a weaving that takes at least a year to make; like why would anyone want to work on something that took so long to make? Ann added: “…it’s the spirit of the thing…it’s the feeling that comes over me as I weave…it’s like this time-less connection of time immemorial that is happening at the same time…it feels as though all my relations are here with me, as though every Chilkat weaver that ever lived is standing behind me as I weave, watching, guiding and supporting me…” Ann motioned for me to sit down and weave on her robe. (Now that I have woven several Chilkat and Ravenstail robes, when a weaver invites you to weave on her robe, THAT is an honor!) I wove a few stitches on the border of her robe, maybe a total of 10 inches…when suddenly, I felt a power come over me, I felt a presence of many but I could not place my finger on it…I experienced the essence of what Ann spoke of!
Ann apprenticed with me in Chilkat weaving from 1992 to 1996. She is one of the most finest weavers I’ve ever known. Her finery too is woven in the manner in which she lives her life and guides her family and people. Over the years, I have sought her counsel in matters of relationships, art and business. She lead me to weave Chilkat robes; it changed my life in many more ways than one. Gunalcheesh, Ann!
Mar 22, 2013 | Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive, Tlingit Culture Accentuated, Tools-of-the-Trade |
Clarissa instructs Frances Joe and Marge Jackson during Clarissa’s 2nd Chilkat weaving class held in August 1990, Klukshu, Yukon Territory, Canada
Jennie Thlunaut taught me several Chilkat “laws” or guidelines for weavers and weavings. This day in age we would call them “taboos” since most of us modern folk do not (or will not) honor the laws of old – most modern folk think that following the “old ways of thinking and doing” no longer applies to us today. Some of us folks say that they want to follow the ways of our people, yet when it comes right down to applying those old teachings, or when it comes to honoring the elders and their guidelines, we choose to ignore.
You as a weaver, can decide for yourself which laws may apply to you.
The following list are some of the “rules of weaving.” Jennie was quite adamant about these certain things and I learned to honor them – they include:
1). no human hands – although you can weave three fingers and a thumb, you WILL NOT weave four fingers and a thumb!
2). Pray each morning before you weave – prayer is to always give thanks for the gift of weaving that you’ve been given, that you have your health and that you have lots of love in your family and friends,…prayer of giving thanks for everything you’ve been given, everything that you have, everything that has come to you.
An East Indian woven cloth to cover a Chilkat loom – a good protector from dirt and negative energies…!
3). Cover your work each time you are not working on it; always cover it before you retire for the night.
Complete the closure of any eye or circle before retiring for the day
4). When weaving a circle or an eye, always allow for enough time to complete weaving them before going to bed; so if you start an eye or a circle in the morning, and then you have other things to do during the day, you must make time to complete the weaving of the circle or eye, close it up, before you go to sleep that night – never leave it open during the time that you sleep.
5). Do not teach (“straight”) men – if you teach “gay” men, then make sure their character is in harmony with the Chilkat spirit.
6). Not to get big-headed about being a weaver; no room for being egotistical – keep your ego in check – especially when you are challenged by another
7). Go to your loom with clean heart, clean mind, clean body – do not weave when you are in a negative mood. That kind of energy goes into the robe and this is not good because the robe will carry that energy and may be transferred to the person who is dancing in the robe.
8). Do not show your weaving to the person who is buying (or may be buying) your weaving before it is completed.
Chilkat weaving is a strong spirit. Jennie tried hard to explain these things to me. I was young then, however, in my experiences as an active weaver, I have come to know many things of the unseen, and I see why the Chilkat laws of weaving apply today even as they did 100 years ago…the ways of the physical reality may change, the ways in how we live may change, yet the ways of spirit do not. I have experienced that when you apply these teachings, any or all, no matter what goes on in your life, positive and negative, there resides a strong, steady “rudder” serving as a guide of the straight and narrow path – and you will recognize all the good things that have been placed in your path – kind of like a path of righteousness.
Would these “laws” apply to Ravenstail weaving? I do not know, however, it wouldn’t hurt to apply these things to your every-day lives! What have you got to lose?
Jan 30, 2013 | Class Act, Relationship Overdrive, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
Huddling together, Darlene See, Jeanette Tabor and Jean Lampe weave Chilkat headbands on the portable mahogany looms – 22 years ago in January 1991
How is an apprenticeship different from a workshop or class? As I understand it, in the old sense of the word, “apprentices” would learn from a “master” artist craftsman by getting acquainted first through various tasks, i.e. cleaning up the shop, performing menial tasks for the master, sometimes making the meals, doing the errands, etc., and then when the apprentice became “worthy” (by the master’s definition and time frame), the apprentice would assist the master creating works without pay. An apprentice could work with the master for several months to several years.
Two of Jennie Thlunaut’s grand-daughters, the late Phoebe Warren (left) and Louise Light (right), with Darlene See (center) and Clarissa – all three are weaving Chilkat aprons – in March 1992 in Clarissa’s “Juneau studio”
According to my definition of apprentice, in the very beginning, the woman jumps through a lot of hoops if they are going to spend time with me; I am not easy to pin down nor get to – I live in a remote place of Colorado and my Alaska home these days is wherever I can lay my hat (although I still plan on making a home in Haines…(sigh)…someday soon). I am also not going to waste my precious time with someone who just wants to dabble in Chilkat weaving, so she has to prove herself to me and mainly I want her to prove herself to herself. An apprentice is someone who pays (in Jennie’s words) “big money” to have me to themselves, one-on-one. The apprentice has such a strong desire to learn the intricate art of Chilkat weaving, that before she even contacts me, most have already bought their loom, drafted up a pattern, purchased Cheryl Samuel’s Chilkat weaving book, and have the wool and cedar to begin spinning their own warp – and if they don’t have any of their materials just before they get a confirmation from me, they get their materials together real quick!
Vanessa Morgan weaves her very first Chilkat project: a pair of leggings in the shape of a copper T’naa (Chilkat face above/Ravenstail pattern below)
It is okay for my apprentices to be “loyal” to me (meaning: they shall have no other instructor other than me). However, I do not require this nor do I suggest it, the reason being first, that I am not a “god” and there have been many”gods” before me (LOL), the second being that I believe it is a good thing for students to learn from at least another instructor, and of course, the students will learn from other fellow students. I encourage my students to share their experiences without fear of “doing the wrong thing.” There are four techniques in Chilkat weaving: the 2-strand twine, the 3-strand braid, the interlock and the drawstring. Everything else that we learn are tricks-of-the-trade, and we can learn these things from watching other weavers, learning from other weavers, and listening to other weavers. Jennie had more than one teacher. She learned Chilkat weaving first from her mother, and when her mother passed when Jennie was 12, she learned from her aunties. Note the plural. And who knows how many other fellow weavers she learned from in her 84 years as a Chilkat weaver!
Vanessa Morgan and Clarissa Rizal with their Chilkat “T’Naa” Leggings
Also understand that if you are a beginner, intermediate (or master?) Chilkat weaver, be easy on yourself. As you are a student in learning about life, you will always be a student in learning the vast “seen and unseen” intricacies of Chilkat weaving. There’s more to Chilkat than meets the eye. I am weaving my 5th Chilkat robe; this is the first robe where I feel like my fingers are flying through the robe as if I know what I am doing; what(!?)…it’s taken me nearly 25 years to FEEL like I KNOW what I am doing! Hahahaha! And although there are some shapes I am not familiar with weaving, I am figuring it out just by logic and reason and having an artistic eye (which really helps!), and I have asked myself why it has taken myself so long to begin to feel “comfortable in my skin with Chilkat”…that answer is unfolding as I write. So if you think I am a master weaver, you can quit that. I tell you what, even after 96 years of being one of the most prolific Chilkat weavers in Chilkat history beginning at the age of 12, Jennie did not call herself a “master” weaver – other people called her that to which she replied at the 1985 class she taught in Haines: “…me a master weaver? I am not a master weaver…I am still LEARNING!”
Vivian Land – one of Jennie’s four granddaughters who began to learn Chilkat weaving during Clarissa’s first Chilkat weaving class in 1989.
I encourage my students to pay attention to their emotional and spiritual parts of themselves; this is one of the most important aspects of Chilkat weaving that Jennie taught me; these are things that are not easily conveyed in anything written on the history of Chilkat. According to Jennie Thlunaut “…it’s the spirit of the person that counts,…not just anybody belongs to Chilkat…this is not to have big heads about it…that’s not what this is about…this is about our people, this is about our precious land, this is about our relatives, the animals of the ocean and land and sky,…this is about appreciating this that has been gifted to us, given to you…always give thanks for what you got, for what you have been given…before you go to your loom every day, first thing you pray and give thanks…go to your loom clean – clean mind, clean heart, clean body…”
Jan 3, 2013 | Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive |
I introduce and wish to thank my friend Cecilia Arnold, who has worked for and with me for almost 20 years in a variety of fields from gardening, to house-cleaning, to art and administrative assistance. In her former life before moving to Colorado, she was an art professor at Penland School of Arts and Crafts in North Carolina. We ran into one another the day after New Year’s at my favorite western store of all time, Goodman’s. – Hey, Notice the cell phone cover!
Since the birth of my first child 36 years ago this month, I have often said “a woman needs a wife!” It wasn’t until 1994 when I moved into my Colorado home that I took my own “medicine.” When I have been able to afford it, I have hired my friend Cecilia who has been an invaluable asset to me as an artist, mother, gardener, home-maker and business woman. Cecilia has been nearly a “wife” – like a kind of “mid-wife” per se in that she has helped “born” many a project, many a plant and many a clean home! Ladies, I suggest you obtain a “wife” especially when you’ve got a lot going on – she’s the ultimate stress-reliever!
May 14, 2012 | For Crying Out Loud, Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive |
Irene and William Lampe - December 1955 - my mother is pregnant with her first daughter, Clarissa Rizal Lampe
Irene passed away last year on the 4th of July; she was 86 years old. This is the first Mother’s Day without her; somehow as much as I tried to feel okay about this day with my family members, I couldn’t help but feel melancholy – it was always such a special day when our mother was alive. And even though I am not only a mother of 3 but a grandmother of 4, I’m not in any mode to celebrate myself in that role. I must look for another element…I’ll celebrate my daughters as mothers.
Apr 1, 2012 | Adventures of Rear-Mirror Rissy, For Crying Out Loud, Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive, Showing Off |
“Big Blue Whale” was his full name; we all called him “Big Blue” for short. A pale blue-green, 1965 Ford pick-up, ¾ ton sporting a 351 engine (coveted by mechanics knowing the value of this type of engine), Big Blue was “born and bred” in Georgia and made his way up to Alaska in the early 80’s driven by the original owner, an airplane mechanic who kept this babe in great shape. Big Blue was happiest humming down the highway at 85mph best with a ton of gravel – his engine “purred!” I bought Big Blue in July 1985 for my landscape company when he was just 20 years old. It was love at first sight!
Firefighters put out the last remaining life of "Big Blue" - photo by Ursala Hudson
27 years later, Big Blue passed away today on April Fool’s Day. When my son-in-law was going up the hill towards home, suddenly the truck died and when he jumped out to check what happened, suddenly the engine began to smoke and burst into flames – luckily Chris had not had the chance to open the hood!!! 911 came to the rescue and put out the last life of Big Blue. When all had died down, the fire chief examined the engine and showed us the broken fuel line figuring this was what started the fire.
The passing of Big Blue was very sad; for me it was the completion of an era allowed to live only once. As I mentioned earlier, when I first saw this truck many years ago, it was “love at first sight.” My personal experience of “love at first sight” is a feeling of deep gratitude upon the sight of something, or someone, or somewhere. This feeling has nothing to do with want, lust, desire, must have; it is full body experience of being in awe, feeling a deep appreciation of what is before me. I loved this machine at first sight in 1985.
I was a landscape gardener; boss of my “Kahtahah Landscape Gardeners”, every season I’d hire a new group of adventurous young folk who didn’t mind working hard in the Southeastern Alaskan weather from April 1st through October 31st in wind, sleet, snow flurries, rain (of course!), and yet any fine, rare sunny day, we were out and about, we soaked up the shine, all of it! Kept in lean shape sportin’ mighty fine tans, we did, yessirreee!
Instead of buying a company truck, I rented one from June Dawson’s vehicle rental company. (And if any of you living in Juneau remember June, she was a hoot – one of the happiest redheads I’ve ever known – a generous woman who implored me to dig up the best peatmossy loamy soil on this side of the planet! (which happened to be located in what is now the Lemon Creek Industrial area where COSTCO and all those other brand names hang out together…we hand-dug truckloads and truckloads to the Sealaska Corporation plaza’s garden beds – there were nights I couldn’t sleep cuz I had threats by passer-bys who were coveting the soil – I was never sure if I’d return to work the next day and find the piles gone, so we quickly worked the soil into the poor soil already existing at Sealaska.
(Why did I rent a truck instead of buying one? I was waiting for the right one to come around. I didn’t want just any ole truck; I wanted a specific type. And the moment I wished for it out loud, not even 5 minutes later, there he was at the garbage dump in all his fine glory! Hallelujiah!)
My 1985 crew members included 5 neighbors. They had just moved to Juneau from Nebraska and Kansas, looking for the “Alaskan experience” and were out looking for a job. Being the kind of neighbor that I am, I asked them if they were interested in working for me. They jumped for it. One day, the five of us were jammed packed into the cab of the truck heading to the garbage dump to look for an old refigerator to use as a smokehouse. One crew member asked: “Hey Clarissa, when are you going to buy your own truck?” They all chimed in: “Yeah, you’ve got to get your own truck, how come you gotta be so picky, like what kind of truck do you want?”
I replied: “I want an old truck, one from the 60’s, can’t be older than ’69. I want a Chevy or Ford pick-up, you know, the kind with the rounded fronts with a big bed, not one of those ½ ton, but ¾ ton. I want him in excellent condition…I’m waiting for the right one!”
Everyone’s reply: “oh golly, that’s wishful thinking, where you gonna find one in Juneau, those types are rare, especially those without any rust in excellent shape…!?”
Within 5 minutes of the conversation, as we had come around the corner, there at the dump, was “Big Blue!” – the owners were visiting the dump too! My crew members and I gawked “Clarissa! There’s YOUR truck!” — and sure enough, there was a “For Sale” sign on the rear window!
The rest is 27 years of history and fantastic memories.
Jul 18, 2011 | Honoring Others, Latest Art Projects, Relationship Overdrive, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
Clarissa Rizal weaving the tail end of the design field of "Jennie Weaves An Apprentice" Chilkat dance blanket robe - July 2011
After 4+ years, this robe is scheduled to come off the loom on Friday, July 29th at Teslin’s Celebration 2011. I am hoping to have this robe danced then…we’ll see! This is my first of a series of robes I have designed of a Chilkat robe within a Chilkat robe. To distinguish the difference of the two, notice the blue being used in the smaller robe and the green used in the main body of the robe.
Why has it taken me 4+ years to complete this robe? That very long story, along with the design description of this robe, I will tell when I complete the robe, make another move and settle down for a little while; I will include photographs of the various “landmarks”; stay tuned on that one.
Jul 12, 2011 | Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
Strolling along Auke Bay with Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe wearing one of her favorite hats - 2007
The following is written by our sister, Irene Jean Lampe (Photographs taken by Clarissa unless otherwise noted):
Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe was born June 25, 1925, in Port Althorp, Alaska. She died July 4, 2011, at age 86. Her Tlingit names were Latseenk’i Tlaa, Naax Seex Tlaa, and Xaays’ Neech. She was Raven Takdeintaan from Kaa Shaayi Hit and Tax’ Hit of Hoonah, Alaska, and Kaagwaantaan yadi and Kaagwaantaan dachxan.
Irene's parents Grandpa Juan and Grandma Mary pick apples with the smiling Jack Henke at 10 years old - circa 1960 - (photo courtesy Irene's family album)
Irene’s mother was Mary Wilson Brown Sarabia whose Tlingit name was Lxeis’. Mary’s first husband was Paul Brown, a Kaagwaantaan and song composer. Irene’s maternal grandmother was Jennie Edna White Wilson McClancey whose first husband was Bill Wilson, Kaagwaantaan, and second husband, Peter McClancey. Her maternal great-grandmother was Mary Phillips.
Irene's father Juan Sarabia - 1976
Irene’s father Juan Sarabia was a member of the Visayan tribe from Aklan province of the Philippines (PI), northwest portion of the Panay Islands in the Western Visayas Islands. Juan left PI and signed up with the U.S. Army in Hawaii in 1918. He traveled up the Pacific Coast to Alaska where he jumped ship with another soldier for a short time period. He was adopted into the Kaagwaantaan by Harry Marvin and given the name Deixyaanteen.
Irene’s husband William Boyd “Bill” Lampe was Bikolano from the southeastern peninsula of Luzon Island, the island where Manila is located. He was adopted into the Kaagwaantaan by Willis Peters and given the name Chaalk’ Tlein (Big Eagle). Irene affectionately nicknamed him “Lano” and in recent years, “Dudley.” Bill gave Irene the nickname “Bip.”
Bill saw Irene for the first time when she traveled to Seattle on the Princeton Hall sometime during the school year of 1947-48. She was a member of the Sheldon Jackson high school choir and they traveled for 3 weeks to perform in Seattle. Bill loudly said to her, “I’m going to marry you one day!” Later he met Irene again while working at Excursion Inlet cannery. Bill and Irene married on August 20, 1955.
William and Irene - Christmas in Seattle at his mother's house - Christmas 1955 (photo courtesy family photo album)
Irene grew up in Hoonah and Excursion Inlet. In 1935, she was enrolled in 1st grade at age 10 because her mother witnessed the negative effects of a western education system towards her older daughters. Her mother tried to shield her from the harsh treatment received by her older sisters. Irene barely knew any English at the time and was punished by school authorities for speaking the Tlingit language. She quickly learned the English language and continued to study it into the 1960s.
William and Irene stand in front of the The Excursion Inlet Packing Company cabin where we spent summers (50s & 60s) while she worked in the fish cannery and he was a fisherman - 2007
She enjoyed playing sports and was a member of the Hoonah Braves volleyball and basketball teams. During the summer months, she lived in Excursion Inlet and went to fish camps in Glacier Bay, Dundas Bay and Icy Strait to preserve food for winter. She fondly remembered gathering seagull eggs at Marble Island in Glacier Bay.
In 1941, Irene and her parents spent a year in Juneau. They rented a house at the bottom of Carrol Way and South Franklin Street. Irene had to walk to a bus stop where Fireweed Place is currently located to catch the bus across the Douglas Bridge to attend the government elementary school in Douglas, now the Douglas Montessori School.
In 1948 she was the valedictorian of her graduation class at Sheldon Jackson High School. She sang in the high school choir. She graduated with her close friend Katherine Wanamaker Goade. Just after graduation, Irene had enough money to travel to Seattle with some classmates. She wanted to attend Griffin Business College but her mother begged her to come home after being away from home for four years. Irene cashed in her ticket and returned to Hoonah.
Irene's long-time friends Katharine Goade (left) and Rachel Carpenter (right) - Celebration 1998
Besides babysitting for relatives and employed as a cannery worker for Excursion Inlet Packing Co., Irene’s first job after high school was as a waitress at the Alaskan Lunch Box, now the Alaskan Bar. She was also a housekeeper at the government BIA hospital near the present location of Federal Building and at St. Ann’s Hospital.
In the 1960s while working a full time job during the day, she attended Juneau Community College in the evening for about 5 winters where she enrolled in bookkeeping, shorthand, dictation, transcription, English, and typing classes. She was one of a handful of Tlingit women who were hired by the State of Alaska. She worked approximately 16 years for the State as a file clerk with Fish & Game, a clerk with Health & Social Services, promoted to an accounting clerk with Labor, and transferred to another accounting clerk position with Revenue Treasury Division. She quit State employment to work for Tlingit Haida Central Council for approximately 15 years. When she began work for T&H, there were only 2 employees – her and Ray Paddock, the president. She always said he was the nicest man anyone could work for.
Irene taking communion at St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church - 2008
Irene attended the St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church in Hoonah and Juneau following her ancestors. She believed in the Church because the Tlingit language was used in the services. She knew all the songs in Tlingit. A parish group photo was taken at the church on May 4, 1929 when she was 4 years old. She wore a hat in the photo and continued to wear hats throughout her life.
St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church - 1929 - Irene is sitting under the icon - the littlest one on the right wearing the hat - (photo courtesy Fr. Simeon)
Irene’s belief in the afterlife was heightened when she had a near death out of body experience in the late 1950s. She lay unconscious in a hospital room and recalled looking down at herself from above. When she woke up, she asked the attending nurse if there was a piece of crushed paper in the trash can next to her bed. The nurse said, “why yes, they haven’t cleaned the room yet.” Irene said the nurse then looked perplexed and asked, “how could you know?”
Irene was a fluent speaker of the Tlingit language. She enjoyed conversing in Tlingit with other speakers and young people just beginning to learn. She especially like to listen to elders such as Andrew Johnnie and Clarence Jackson for their excellent speaking skills and storytelling. She would literally gasp with excitement at their speaking ability.
Grandma Mary Wilson Sarabia sewing moccasin tops - 1972
Irene learned the art of bead work from her mother. Her first lesson was to thread all needles for her mother who was an excellent bead worker. She beaded many moccasin tops for her mother which helped to provide a source of income for her mother and family. Irene spent many hours every day devoted to bead work especially during her retirement years. She made several Takdeintaan beaded crests and octopus bags and handed them out to family members. When she was no longer able to thread needles, granddaughter Lily thread the needles for her.
Portrait during Celebration 1994 - (photo courtesy Wilhelm Photography)
Irene dancing at Celebration 2000, with friends Lillian Austin (left) and Marlene Sternberg (right)
Irene with lifelong friend, Pedro Barrill - Grand Entrance Parade - Celebration 2000
Irene loved Tlingit dancing and singing. She was a member of Yun Shuka dance group in the 1980s and danced with the Mt. Fairweather group on several occasions. She participated in every Celebration since the very first one in 1982 and except 2010. She was always excited about the Grand Entrance parade.
Irene in pink dress (hand-sewn by Clarissa) for New Year's Eve - 1988
Irene and Bill also loved to dress up in their finest to go out dancing at the Dreamland, Occidental Bar, and the Baranof Latchstring. They celebrated all the holidays by going out to dance. They especially liked dressing up in costume on Halloween.
Irene was washing dishes; Dad pulled her out "onto the dance floor" in the livingroom - (notice the rubber gloves) - 1999
Irene crocheted many blankets and gave to family members. She also gave away stacks of them at each of her sister’s memorial potlatches. She taught Bill to crotchet when he had a heart attack and stayed home more often in the evenings instead of going to bingo. He was so proud of his work.
One of Irene's first afghan's - 1980 - (A gift on the occasion of granddaugther Lily's birth)
Irene liked to walk and pick berries with her best friend Lillian Austin. Irene would walk from her house in Lemon Creek to Lillian’s house in Switzer Creek and together they would walk to Fred Meyer and back. They often picked berries at North Douglas. On several occasions they saw black bears walk right by them. Irene would be afraid to say anything to Lillian but when the bear departed, Irene would quietly say to Lillian, “Let’s go now” so as not to scare her.
Irene and Bill loved to travel to Hawaii, and to visit relatives and friends in Washington. Almost every other year, Bill got the driving bug. They drove to Anchorage to visit her niece and her husband Edna and Sam Lamebull, and to visit her brother Robert Sarabia in Seward. Irene’s sisters Katherine Mills and Sue Belarde joined Irene and Bill on a couple of road trips north.
William, son Timothy, and Irene Lampe - Hawaii - 1996
Irene was well known for her sense of humor, she liked to make people laugh! Often she would say or do something so hilarious in public that Bill would feel embarrassed and walk away from her. She collected and distributed photocopies of jokes and cartoons to friends and co-workers that would be considered “harassment” by today’s standards. Many former co-workers, especially at T&H, said they enjoyed working with her because of her sense of humor.
Irene pulls out her file folder of jokes she collected for many years - 1999 - (photo courtesy Dee Lampe)
Irene loved going to the movies to see comedies and scary movies. She was always laughed the loudest in a theatre. She loved to watch scary movies with Bill every Friday night. The more gruesome the movie, the better.
In her youth, Irene was always ready to participate in pie and watermelon eating contests. She said once her entire face was covered with blueberries. It’s no wonder she had a healthy appetite for such a little lady in her later years.
Irene was close to her brother Edward Sarabia, Sr. Photos of their youth indicate a sense of humor and as they got older, there was always laughter between them.
Irene lived up to her name Latseenk’i Tlaa (meaning strong little mother) in mind/body/spirit. In the face of adversity, discrimination, hardships, she overcame obstacles to provide a better life for her family all along maintaining that sense of humor and laughter. Irene sometimes made up her own words and instead of goodbye, she said “Boombie” which were her last words to her children. She will forever live on in the hearts of all those who knew and loved her.
Irene doesn't wave "good-bye" - she waves "Boombie!" - June 2011
Irene was preceded in death by her husband; parents; son Robert Allen Lampe, brothers, Edward T. Sarabia, Sr. and Robert “Bobby” Sarabia; sisters and their spouses, Katherine and Gilbert Mills, and Sue and Eladio Belarde; nephews, Gilbert “Butch” Mills and Patrick Mills; nieces, Barbara Sarabia Casey and Phyllis Mills Bean; aunts, Susie Wilson Davis and Kitty Lawrence; uncles, Mike Wilson, Alex “Shorty” Wilson, and Frank Wilson; extended family members, Sophie Davis Hanke, Leonard Davis, Fred Hanke, Jr., Joe Moses, Mary Lawson Jones, Gertrude L. White, and Moses Alex John. She was also preceded by three cats, Midnight, Kiki, and Kobe.
She is survived by her children, Richard Lampe, Clarissa Rizal, Tim Lampe, Irene Jean Lampe, Deanna Lampe; grandchildren, Amber and Brooke Lampe, Kahlil Hudson, Lily Hope, Ursala Hudson; great-grandchildren, Elizabeth Hope, Violet Hudson, and Amelie Haas; daughter-in-law Sarah Lampe; sister-in-law Helen Sarabia and family; Takdeintaan Mills and Belarde families; extended families of the Takdeintaan Head House; many friends, and her husband’s cat Bingo.
Pallbearers:
Frank Lee
Norman Sarabia
Kahlil Hudson
Ishmael Hope
Thomas Mills, Jr.
Aengus Saya
Honorary Pallbearers
Charles Jack
Thomas Jack
James Jack
Earnest Jack
David Katzeek
Ralph Knudson
Sam Lamebull
Harold Martin
Alfred McKinley, Sr.
Edwin Mercer, Jr.
Mickey Pico
Frank White
Ray Wilson
Guy Benningfield, Sr.
Lillian Austin
Bea Brown
Rachel Carpenter
Lillian “Ginger” Collier
Katherine Goade
Annette Hanke
Flora Huntington
Violet James
Jessie Johnnie
Anna Katzeek
Jennie Lindoff
Cecelia Unik
Lily White
Memorial service will be held at 6 p.m. Tuesday, July 12 at Tlingit and Haida Community Building, 3625 Hospital Drive in Juneau. Cards may be sent to Deanna Lampe, 350 Irwin St. #411, Juneau, AK 99801.
Thank you to all who helped make the memorial possible. Thank you to Donald Gregroy, our Chief Chef. Thank you to Tony Tengs of The Chilkat Cone for his donation of Chilkat cones for the memorial reception dessert. Thank you to several of my lifelong friends who helped serve the food, including: Charito Reid, Margaret Ramos Ashe, Lis Saya, Kelly Burnett, and Rhonda Mann.
Gunalcheesh, ho ho!
I have posted a previous blog entry last week “An Eternal Friendship With My Mamma” with more photographs and memoirs in honor of our mother, Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe.
Jul 5, 2011 | For Crying Out Loud, Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
Irene and Clarissa at Celebration 2000
My mother passed away yesterday on a day of freedom, Independence Day, the 4th of July. I know my mother has been liberated from the restraint of her aged, wretched body. After intense suffering since the passing of our father over two years ago, including the recent passing of a son three months ago, she’s now a free woman. 8 days prior, she turned 86.
Irene with Clarissa and younger brother, Timothy - Summer 1958
Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe was born June 25, 1925 in Port Althorp, a place that doesn’t exist anymore, near Hawk Inlet. She was born during her family’s Summer fish camp to Juan and Mary Sarabia. They spent their winters protected from the cold North winds in the small village of Hoonah, near Glacier Bay. Eventually her parents worked Summer months at the Excursion Inlet Packing Co. (XIP); and in 1955 while working at the cannery, she met and married my father, William Lampe on August 20th. Nine months later, I was born. My parents dispute over my name. I would have been named Kate if I were born on June 5th, my mother’s eldest sister Katherine Mills’ birthday; or, I would have been named Patricia (i.e. Pat), after my father’s mother Patricia Rizal Lampe if I were born any other day other than June 5th. However, the day before I was born, my father dreamt a girl would be born to them and her name was Clarissa, a name he had never heard before.
William B. Lampe & Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe model the Eagle & Raven button blanket robes made by their daughter Clarissa - 1987 - collection of Tlingit & Haida Central Council offices, Juneau
Irene helps sew the button blanket wall mural "Following Our Ancestors' Trail" - 1992 - Private Collection, Austin, Texas
Most of her adult life, our mother helped support our family by working for various state and local agencies including the State Department of Education, Department of Health & Social Services, the Department of Revenue and Tlingit & Haida Central Council. A year after she retired in 1990, she said she didn’t know how she got all the things done that needed to get done when she worked a “real job.” She enjoyed traveling with her husband, hosting her grandchildren overnight, sewing quilts, crocheting afghans, taking daily walks and getting back to her bead work. She said she learned how to bead work when she was 5 (I have that 5-year-olds’ first beadwork), and that it felt good to get back to beading after almost a 60-year absence.
Sewing a beaded eagle for the back of her husband's vest - June 2005
One day I realized that I didn’t have a button blanket of my own. (Uh, huh. You are most likely thinking about the shoemaker who doesn’t make his own shoes and goes barefoot. Yep. That’s what I had been – over 20 years as a regalia-maker of robes for others, but not for myself nor family – yup!) Because I could create any kind of robe I wanted, from a Chilkat robe to a Ravenstail robe to a button blanket, I asked what kind of robe would I make for myself, and the answer was: “…you design the robe, coordinate the colors to match your tunic (I inherited in 1976 from my maternal Uncle Leonard Davis) and have your mother do the bead work; it will then hold special meaning for you…” – of course, why didn’t I think of that long time ago!? – The robe is made with deep red and deep brilliant blue melton cloth of 100% wool, antique, carved Mother-of-Pearl buttons, and machine-embroidered braid. The bead work and designs were sewn by my mother; I sewed the robe and did the embellishments with the embroidered braid and buttons. Below are images and details of the robe.
Clarissa's Black-legged Kittywake T'akDeinTaan button blanket robe - a collaboration with mother Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe who did all the bead work, and Clarissa designed and sewed the robe - 2005
*(For many our clan assumed the emblem as the common Seagull, and for many years I had questioned and doubted our clan emblem as a Seagull because the beaded representation of our clan designs was a bird that had a golden beak, black markings towards the tip of its wings and if there were legs portrayed in the design, they were black; plus, there was generally two birds hovering above a nest – to indicate that the nature of the bird: both parents raise their young. Due to my sister Irene Jean Lampe’s research a several years ago, we are now on the right track of the true identity of our clan emblem of the Black-legged Kittywake T’akDeinTaan.).
Small sea bird commonly dwells on cliffs near glaciers called the"Black-legged Kittywake" - Clan emblem to the Alaskan Tlingit T'akDeinTaan - beaded by Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe for her daughter Clarissa's robe - 2005
Close-up of the carved, antique Mother-of-Pearl buttons placed on the machine-embroidered braid along the borders of the button robe - Clarissa Rizal - 2005
When I put together the robe, I felt a need to “give back” to my mother. What could I do to repay her for the hours and talent she put into my robe? She would not take money from me. So I left the “debt” wide open until the idea came a year later when we were looking through her large box of all the bead work she had created over the course of 15 years since she retired in 1990; she had beaded flowers of all sorts and sizes and she had beaded at least 10 of the Black-legged Kittywakes. Suddenly, the idea popped into my head: “…sew up button robes for all of your Mother’s children and grand-children and place her bead work on each robe…” She loved the idea. This project ended up being a collaboration between mother, daughter and granddaughter; I sewed the robes, daughter Lily sewed the buttons, and we sewed down Mom’s bead work on each robe. We also sewed a couple more octopus bags fashioned after the one (on the right) that my mother had sewn. A weaving apprentice Julia Sai Carlson, had helped attach Mom’s bead work to the bags too. I had never sewn octopus bags before; it was fun. All the bead work was designed and sewn by our Mother. Below are the three octopus bags with Irene’s bead work.
The Octopus bags - August 2005 - collection of Robert Lampe's family
After my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary dinner on August 20, 3005, we went to their house to do a family ceremony of “bringing out the robes.” My parent’s children and grand-children were present. My mother gave a speech; it was an emotional time for her. (She had said she is not a public speaker – not even in front of her own family.) I was proud of our Mother. She spoke of how she kept the old bead work patterns that were once her Mother’s (Mary Wilson Sarabia), she mentioned that each robe had our clan emblem, the Black-legged Kittywake T’akDeinTaan, or a beaded raven (for our brother, Robert); she hoped that each of us would keep our robes long after she was gone. Directly after her speech, our sister Irene Jean sang and drummed a Tlingit song, and for the first time in our family, we witnessed all our family members dancing together; it was a thing of beauty, we laughed together. I felt this was a significant moment in our family’s life. My parents beamed.
We honored our parent's 50 years of marriage, with new robes for all the children and grandchildren - August 2005
Also, as part of our parent’s 50th Wedding Anniversary, we took a 3-day trip to Excursion Inlet. Included in our entourage was my sister Dee, my kids Kahlil and Lily, my apprentice Julia and myself. We joined our brother Rick, cousins Janie, Linda and 2nd cousins Thomas and Lydia. I have fond memories of spending a few Summers in Excursion Inlet when I was a child; it was a good feeling to hear stories of my parent’s days as young adults – it was good for my own children to experience the place and to hear the stories. We tend to forget that old people were once young.
William and Irene walking the "boardwalk" in Excursion Inlet - the cannery village where they first met in 1955 - He was a fisherman with his own seiner and had stopped there for the Summer, she worked in the cannery - August 2005
Another thing my mother incorporated into her life as soon as she retired was a daily walk. No, not just a walk around the block, but a real walk! Years of working at a “normal” job kept her in the condition of waking at 5am, so by 6am she was ready to go. From the age of 65, she began walking at least 6 miles a day. Sometimes she would walk with her friend, Lillian Austin. Sometimes she walked with another friend, Rachel Carpenter. She paced a steady rythym. I remember a time about 10 years ago, when she was 76, our brother Bunny met us at the Hoonah ferry terminal and we walked into town. At one point, we noticed she was walking way ahead of us; none of her kids nor husband kept up with her pace! The following photos are a few places where we walked…
Walking the Flume - July 2007
Walking the Juneau tour ship dock...June 2007
Walking Auke Bay...August 2007
Taking a rest on the Dan Moller Trail...2001
Starting in 2005, my parents began to ask me when I would move back home, so in 2007 I moved up to Juneau for about 7 months. During this time we took a couple of ferry trips; one to Hoonah (and my father hadn’t been there for over 30 years), and the ferry to Skagway to drive up to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory (a place they would pass through when they took their annual Summer drive into the Yukon and interior of Alaska.) I also took my parents on day trips in Juneau they hadn’t been in many, many years like the Lena Loop picnic area, Auke Bay, Eagle Beach, Echo Cove, Thane Road, Evergreen Bowl, Twin Lakes and Sandy Beach; and to places they had never been like The Flume and the Treadwell Mine. I knew then what is confirmed now: Forever I will cherish the Spring/Summer of 2007 – the time I made to enjoy with my parents.
William & Irene walk the Treadwell Mine Trail...July 2007
About 20+ years ago, my father, who was an avid gardener, had too many packets of daisy seeds. (I say “too many” cuz I quote my Mom.) During those years, my Mother walked Twin Lakes often with the family dog, Nick. One day she took several packets of the daisy seeds and sprinkled them on the banks between the highway and the Twin Lakes path. Over the years, the daisies have naturally spread their seeds. Right now, the daisies are in full bloom. The following two photos are of my parents during one of our walks back in 2007. During this walk, Mom and I told Dad the story of her sprinkling the seeds which resulted in the entire banks covered with daisies. As we walked the path, although my father’s response was an “Umph”, my mother and I knew he was proud of her. My Mother smiled quietly; she was very happy to be walking the path with her husband.
Irene walking Twin Lakes admiring all the daisies she "planted" many,many years ago...July 2007
William & Irene walking Twin Lakes - notice the expressions on their faces - he commented "hmmmm....I guess that's pretty good" - and she all along smiled with a spirit of satisfaction and pride...July 2007
Irene's of late walking shoes and cane - July 4, 2011
In 1996, I designed and created a leather button blanket style robe in honor of my mother Irene Lampe, in honor of mothers around the world, and in honor of our Mother Earth. It is called “Mother Earth Child.” The circle is the earth and the womb; inside the “womb” a mother tenderly embraces a child, the child tenderly touches the lips while listening to the mother. The circle of human hands represents the constructive and destructive nature of mankind. The robe is made of forest green leather machine-sewn appliqued upon turquoise leather with antique Mother-of-Pearl buttons. The turquoise represents the ocean and sky; the green represents the land.
The robe is currently displayed in the Hilton Hotel lobby in Juneau; it is part of the permanent collection of Native art of Goldbelt, Inc. I wasn’t sure about selling this robe to be displayed in a public art setting. Yet, as I am writing about this topic, I realize the robe in a public setting can be a reminder to all of us how important our mothers are.
Sewing the leather button robe in honor of my mother, "Mother Earth Child" on the 1935 Singer machine - August 1996
When my mother turned 70 in 1995, I felt it was time to honor my relationship with her; I began drafting out this design. My mother and I were not just mother and daughter; we were friends. I cannot remember a time when we had any disputes or discord between us (except maybe when I was a teenager and she worried about me like most parents do with teenage children!). She was always respectful of me even though she did not always agree with some of the decisions I made in my life and I was respectful of her even though I may not have agreed with some of the decisions she made in her life. Our mother was kind and generous to all of us. She watched out for us, protected us, guided us and she had a great sense of humor. Like most parents, she was always “watching our back” even to her very last day. Even though she is no longer in physical form, I think she will still be watching our back. Our mother loved us.
I will greatly miss our mother. Yet, as long as I live and my memory remains good, I will continue to have a lifelong friendship with my Mamma.
In honor of Irene Loling Sarabia Lampe: "Mother Earth Child" - copyright Clarissa Rizal - 1996 - collection of Goldbelt, Inc., Juneau
Nov 16, 2010 | For Crying Out Loud, Honoring Others, Relationship Overdrive, Tlingit Culture Accentuated |
My Mamma's Mother: Mary Wilson Sarabia, T'akDeinTaan (black-legged Kittywake) Clan from Hoonah, Alaska (circa 1920's)
In 1988, while living in Santa Fe, I attended the Institute of American Indian Arts and took a Creative Writing class from professor/poet Arthur Zhe. After submitting a few short poems, he asked if I could write a longer one – of course, I replied. When I got home, I set the stage. It was a stormy night with thunder and lightning blasting about the wind. The kids and man were asleep. Between 10pm and 3am was my usual time all to myself, and I was enjoying the storm. I lit candles and curled up on the couch wrapped in woolens and a spiral-bound notebook. The curtains were open and I could hear the bushes slap against the window glistening with wet, shocks of light in this exciting night. I’m not sure why the image of my Grandmother Mary came to mind, but I began to write without much thought – like the pen led the way into a page of timelessness.
This poem was written as if my grandmother were to come back to a life-long dream of a home and lifestyle I have wanted since my first child was born (now almost 34 years ago);; the dream was to build a hand-built, custom-designed home, with a flourishing flower and vegetable garden, including fruit trees, living a subsistence life-style embellished with the making of traditional and contemporary art. (Cannot say I’ve lived that life – just yet!). My grandmother passed away 12 years prior to the writing of this poem. I wondered what she would see if this dream were an actual reality. Also, while writing this poem, I imagined another clan relative narrating this perspective, telling my Grandmother about me as her elderly footsteps walked silently about my home and life:
“Say you were to come back knocking at her Painted Door, a clan design you know as T’akDeinTaan
She would welcome you in to her large, dark one-room lodge lit by a couple of kerosene wall lamps from L.L. Bean
where at first you did not notice the smoke from the fire in the center of the room trailing up to the smoke hole above
where White Raven tried to fly out but became blackened forever
And you did not notice the carved alder wood mask smiling with one gold tooth flickering by candlelight propped next to the cedar bark basket
on that driftwood shelf to your right and in its shadow below, the carved bentwood boxes that held our clan’s button dance blankets,
each made of wool bought from House of Fabrics with 2,115 mother-of-pearl buttons from Winona’s and 649 turquoise beads
bargained from the stateside Indians who sat in the sun she hardly ever got
and what about the sealskin boots parked near your feet and the sealskin coat embellished with brass beads, feathers and leather fringe
and the sealskin and wolf-fur hat and matching mittens hanging right up next to you on brass hooks screwed in to the cedar-planked wall –
Mind you, did yid you smell cedar when you walked in, for how could you miss it with every plank and beam she’s made of
And did you not see the soapstone puffin bird carved by your great-grandson when he was nine,
and the small bentwood box that used to be yours stuffed with glass beads for the beading loom projects of your great-granddaughter?
How about the Chilkat dance blanket hanging on the loom over there in the corner, away from the mud, ashes and crumbs;
the only weaving in the where you can weave the perfect circle, therefore perfect for our style of design,
and she learned it from Jennie, last of the traditional weavers two months before she died, and they say it takes a year to weave a robe,
but how would you know; you didn’t know how to weave, or did you?
Through clan inheritance only a select few knew then when you were alive, and it was almost a dying art they say,
except the ones outside of tribal boundaries who quickly learned what they could, weaving together bits of the dangling knowledge
and she was one to help weave pieces of the heritage back so she could earn prestige, recognition and thirty thousand dollars a robe,
so she can buy pretty clothes, new shoes, new dishes, towels, computer, stereo, sewing machine, lawn mower, food processor, pasta machine;
so she could buy a piece of land where her ancestors once fished, to build her cedar home, and buy a brand new Toyota truck
to haul all of her new possessions and firewood in, and bury a septic tank for a flushing commode and install a generator for the color T.V.
and CD player sitting on the oak cabinet beside the stack of American Indian art books and magazines surrounded by masks, looms, boxes,
skins, beads and stones; surrounded by what she strives to make as art, what the art can sell for, what the money she makes from selling
the art can buy, what the buying of anything she desires she has discovered has eventually sold pieces of her soul, where the selling of her soul
has left but a faint light in her life.
Say you were to come back
Knocking at her painted door
You would not even notice the dim world behind her
Full of smokey objects casting shadows
Drifting upwards through a blackened hole;
you would look into her eyes only
and know that the faint light had held on
For you
And the next time you were ready
You would take her with you
When you went.”
