Moses Sam

"My grandma, my grandpa, everybody's grandma, everybody's grandpa, all make a living here on this land. They go out, make caribou fence, catch lots of caribou."

Moses Sam, at home in Arctic Village. At the time of the photo he said "about 200" grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great, great grandchildren. For the first 12 years of his life, Moses Sam lived away from the caribou, and he did not have a parka. "I grow up on Martin Creek, between Venetie and Fort Yukon, with my mother," the late Traditional Chief of Arctic Village said during the 87th of his 90 years.

"She was teaching me everything, that's why I know a native way of life."

In the country of Martin Creek, there were no caribou. "My mother is trapping, rabbit and muskrat, ground squirrel. I never see caribou meat." Even so, the living was good. Besides the little animals that Sam helped his mother and two sisters catch for food, they also caught fish, both with nets and with fish traps that his mother made from willows. The traps were about 12 feet long and narrow, and were put into the mouths of little creeks. Fish would swim into them but would not be able to swim back out.

"My mom, she catch lot of fish. Thousands and thousands. We never go hungry." The family also had seven dogs, and trapped for fur. Some years, they did not catch that many animals, Sam recalls. "Here and there a lynx, here and there a mink, here and there a fox, but it is good living, the price of fur is good. One lynx pelt sell for $100,” – which would be like getting $1000 today, Sam said.

The family would sell their furs in Fort Yukon, and buy whatever groceries - such as flour and coffee – that they needed. They would purchase other supplies, such as shotgun shells to shoot ducks with, and the store-bought coat young Sam wore into the country.

"When I go out, sometimes its just cold," he remembers.

When he was 12, Sam traveled with his mother to Christian Village, home of Chief Jim Christian. "This is the first time I see caribou," Sam recalls. "I do not know the caribou, but Chief Jim Christian, he knows the caribou. First time I see the caribou, I do not know what to do, but Jim Christian is laughing, teaching me lots. I hunt caribou, I shoot caribou, I know how to cut it. My Mom is making dry meat.

"I got 15, just right, long hair. My Mom make a parka for me. She make mittens for me. She make boots. Gee! That's good! I never feel the cold again!"

In 1945, Sam and his wife Jennie, with whom he would raise 11 children, moved to Arctic Village, where everyone depended on caribou.

Some years were good, and some were bad. Sometimes, very few caribou were caught. "There were lot of bad times. People go out, get nothing. We get no help from the government. We get tired, go hungry. But I make it, the whole village make it." They made it by persisting, and sharing. Sam recalls staying out in the country, his only shelter being a hole dug in the snow, until finally he succeeded at catching caribou. "I get the meat, pass out to the whole village. I was happy to feed the village. Sometimes, I get moose."

In the 1950's, Sam and his family moved to Fort Yukon, where he worked at the hospital. "Oh gee! Small wages that time," he remembers. "Just 25 cents an hour, and I got big family. I do all kinds of job, I'm all kinds of busy - mop the floor, throw out the trash, cut wood..."

Come the spring and summer fire season, Sam found better work under the U.S. Bureau of Land Management, which paid him $1.50 an hour for his expertise and knowledge of the land. "They cook for me, the pay is good. I don't do nothing but stay at camp, once in a while I take a helicopter ride, go out to the fire line, check hot spots, fly back, and send a crew out to hot spots."

In his final years, Sam said that the modern life is an easy one. "I got a pension, and social security. I'm really happy. I never get hungry, never run out of food. It's just like a rich life. Go out hunting, fishing - save it in cold storage. Nothing to worry about."

Sam does worry about the land, though, and about the future of his people on it. He was distressed by the Supreme Court's Venetie decision, when it ruled that the 1.8 million acres owned by his tribe was not Indian Country.

"My grandma, my grandpa, everybody's grandma, everybody's grandpa, all make a living here on this land. They go out, make caribou fence, catch lots of caribou. I don't know why the State gets jealous, and don't like us to get land here. Everybody's grandma, everybody's grandpa, been living here. The State people, they don't like it. It's crazy. I never go to meetings with the State, When I get chance, I'm going to go over there, tell them everything, about us on this land. It's real important, I'll tell you that."

Now, Moses Sam is that ground, along with his forebears who lived so long upon the land before anyone else even knew about it.