By Andrew Sheeler

Sun Star Reporter

Friends, colleagues, and family of Erich Follman, UAF wildlife biology professor, celebrated his life the best way they knew how: with beer, barbecue and ribald stories.

More than 100 people gathered at the UAF Large Animal Research Station (LARS) on Saturday, August 7, to honor the life of Follman, who died July 26 following a heart attack.  As more and more people arrived, the picnic tables filled up with potluck food, the barbecue was grilling away, and the beer tent handed out free cups of Silver Gulch beer to the 21-and-older crowd.  Each cup of beer had a “The Far Side” comic strip pasted on the side.  Follman loved that comic, and would often incorporate it into his lectures, according to Jon Dehn, a UAF research associate professor and friend of Follman’s.  Jon Dehn’s wife, Lara, earned her doctorate under the guidance of Follman and now works in UAF’s School of Fisheries and Ocean Sciences department.

“He was the best of us,” Lara Dehn said, tearing up a little.  A person would have an easier time butting heads with one of the nearby musk oxen than finding somebody who disagreed with that statement.  Ramona Scriber, who originally met Follman 12 years ago at the state virology lab, described him as a, “good man.  Quiet man.  It was a big loss.”  Tom Paragi, who works for the Department of Fish and Game, met Follman 25 years ago and credited him with working hard to get his students involved with the Alaska chapter of the Wildlife Society.  Don Ritter worked with Follman at the Institute of Arctic Biology (IAB) and called his relationship with Follman “purely honest.”  Don Hartbauer, also with IAB, described Follman as, “a special guy.  Good researcher.”

The tables that weren’t laden with picnic fare held photographs: Follman as a young boy sitting on Santa’s lap, Follman as a high school student, Follman throughout his career as a wildlife biologist.  A blown-up photo of Follman holding a whale ovary and smiling perfectly summed up the man.  Torsten Bentzen was one of Follman’s graduate students.  Unaware that the event was providing free, catered beer, Bentzen had brought a case to the memorial.  Bentzen was circumspect though.

“Erich wouldn’t want there to be a shortage of beer,” Bentzen said. Bentzen described a time at a San Diego convention when Follman was unable to order a beer at a restaurant because of a recent surgery.  When Bentzen ordered a beer, Follman joked that Bentzen had “passed the test.”

Follman’s research passion was the arctic fox, but he also worked extensively with marine mammals, including polar bears and whales.  As a professor and academic adviser, Follman dedicated himself to his students.  Craig George graduated with his Ph.D last winter, and Follman awarded him his degree in May. George said that what set Follman apart was dedication.

“There’s no way in hell I would’ve finished [my doctorate] with any other advisor,” George said.  Others at the memorial echoed that sentiment, saying that Follman cared deeply for his students and encouraged them to live balanced lives.

Sarah MacMillan (Pompey) and Shannon Luster (Abhorson) plot mischief during the final performance of the FST's production of William Shakespeare "Measure for Measure." Photo by Jeremia Schrock/Sun Star.

By Jeremia Schrock

Sun Star Reporter

The final performance of the Fairbanks Shakespeare Theatre (FST) production of Measure for Measure, directed by Graham Watts, was a bawdy look at the timeless conflict between the individual and the state, with love and sex as the primary instigators.

Measure for Measure tells the story of Vincentio, the Duke of Vienna, and his attempts to spy on his city’s affairs. Pretending to leave the city, the duke disguises himself as a monk, leaving the stern judge Angelo in charge. Angelo, a fierce defender of the law and unyielding in matters of sexual morality, cracks down on the city’s brothels, arresting Claudio and his lover in order to make an example of them. Claudio’s sister, Isabella, pleads with Angelo for her brother’s life. The judge decides that if Isabella will sleep with him, giving him her virginity, he’ll release her brother.

Isabella, through the duke/monk’s efforts, convinces Mariana, Angelo’s formerly betrothed, to sleep with him in her stead so that Isabella can keep her virginity intact while still freeing her brother from prison. Mariana sleeps with Angelo, who decides to kill Claudio anyway. The duke then returns and, through a comic mishap, is revealed to be the monk. In the end, Claudio is released from prison, marrying his lover, and Angelo is forced to wed Mariana. It is heavily implied, although it varies between productions, that the duke later on marries Isabella. A subplot in the play has a fourth marriage: one between a brothel-goer named Lucio and a woman he impregnated. Lucio throughout the play badmouthed the duke to the monk and, in turn, the monk to the duke. The duke orders Lucio to be whipped, giving rise to the play being labeled in the FST playbill as “four weddings and a whipping.”

The play was enjoyable, if at times hard to follow. This was due in no part to the cast, but instead to the very nature of Shakespearean play-writing itself. With lines such as “I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee” who could refrain from the occasional look of bewilderment? Shakespearean scholars and aficionados would refrain, of course, but there were few of those in the audience.

However, the cast excelled when it came to physical action. Measure for Measure is one of Shakespeare’s less violent plays, with not a single sword rising from its sheath. Instead, much of the play’s physicality came from the actors themselves. Madeline Fendrick (Isabella) threw herself around the stage with such controlled abandon, and could contort her face into such dejected shapes, that one easily believed that this was the heartbroken sister of a man condemned to death. b.d. Rogers (the duke) could move mountains with his eyes and was at his most physical when portraying the monk. Rogers was capable of gripping and spinning around other actors so suddenly, and with such force, that sometimes it seemed as though Rogers had handled them almost too hard and too believably. Tom Robenolt (Angelo) a veteran of the FST, made the otherwise despicable and loathsome Angelo almost sympathetic. One particularly memorable scene had him verbalizing his angst over Isabella by yelling at a Bible he’d placed on the stage. The distance Robenolt placed between himself and the Good Book exemplified the play’s struggle between the demands of the governor (the Bible) and the desires of the governed (Angelo).

Anne Thibault (Mistress Overdone), of I Wrote This Play To Make You Love Me fame, was only a minor character but easily commanded the audience’s attention with her passion and masterful voice. It also didn’t hurt that costume designer Jessica Pribble bedecked Thibault in beautiful and regal-looking raiment. Longtime FST player Andrew Cassel also delighted the audience with his performance of Lucio; a man never too busy (despite being on crutches) to make a ribald joke or two (or three). Two weeks prior to opening, Cassel broke his ankle. “When I was able to get back on the stage I crutched through my blocking and sat with my leg up between rehearsal moments,” he said. It is obvious to see why after 10 years with the FST, they keep bringing him back for more.

One actor who deserves special attention is Shannon Luster. Luster, who portrayed Elbow and the executioner Abhorson, was an absolute scene-stealer. The chemistry between him and Sarah MacMillan (the pimp Pompey) was palpable and even though the character of Abhorson was present on stage less often then Elbow’s, he proved to be the better of the two. Elbow’s lisping dyslexia was, at times, hysterical though.

While not unforgivable, the choice to end the play on a high note (Isabella’s consent to marry the Duke) is not altogether accurate. The original play ended unresolved with Isabella simply looking at the Duke in silence.

Everclear frontman Art Alexakis playing to a raucous crowd at the Blue Loon on Friday, July 23. Photo by Tom Hewitt/Sun Star.

By Tom Hewitt

Sun Star Reporter

As Everclear frontman Art Alexakis sat in the lobby of the hotel before heading to his band’s show at the Blue Loon Friday night, he allowed that he once walked the halls of academia.

“I was actually a journalism major for a couple of semesters,” Alexakis said, continuing to say that although he stuck with college for a few years, it didn’t last. “I dropped out because it was getting in the way of my alcoholism,” he laughed, “and I couldn’t let that happen.”

Alexakis said he’s been sober for 21 years, but few in the raucous crowd of more than 2,000 who packed Everclear’s outdoor show that night could make a similar claim. The concert was marked not only by the signature riffs of the band’s standards like “Father of Mine” and “Everything to Everyone,” but also by shoving matches near the front that threatened to boil out of control, as well as a string of stage-crashers who were met with an increasing hostile response from security personnel.

The show was the first visit to Fairbanks for Alexakis and his bandmates, but the group isn’t a stranger to Alaska. Everclear played at the Palmer state fair in 2003, and Alexakis said his third wife hailed from the Wasilla-Palmer area. At the time, he said, the mayor of the town was an up-and-coming politician named Sarah Palin. “I’ve got stories,” he said, declining to elaborate.

At the show, Alexakis earned a little Alaska credibility with his banter between songs. “So I know that up here Fred Meyer is the place to be,” he told the crowd, who roared their approval. “Well, we’re from Portland, which is where Fred Meyer was invented. Oh yeah. Fred Meyer is my dad.”

The band stuck to its bread and butter in their Fairbanks show, peppering their set with hits from their most popular albums. The near-capacity crowd sang and shouted along to most of the songs in the set, from the opener – “So Much for the Afterglow,” from the album of the same name – to the final encore, “I Will Buy You A New Life.”

Some members of the audience at Friday’s show were born after Alexakis first formed the band in 1992, but the veteran frontman said he doesn’t worry that the band’s audience is in flux. “I think some of them have [evolved and continued to follow the band], and I think some have moved on… Good art is kinda timeless, though. I think it will always have an audience.”

Alexakis said he doesn’t have very many regrets about his time in the band – now 18 years, with two complete revamps of the band’s lineup – or the choices he has made so far. The only change he would make if given the chance would be to trust his own instincts. “If I could give anybody wisdom, I would tell them to listen to themselves, to trust themselves more… That little voice inside is usually right.”

The band is currently working on their eighth full-length album, to be released later this year. Alexakis expressed excitement about the new record Friday. “I’ve got a fire in my belly that hasn’t been there since 1996 or 1997,” he said, recalling the band’s heyday and their most successful release, So Much For The Afterglow. “This is the biggest guitar record yet… there are a lot of intense stories on there.”

Alexakis said he hasn’t settled on a name for the new album yet, but that he’s mulling over several possible candidates. “I actually just thought of one last night,” he said, chuckling softly. “Setting People on Fire and Other Love Stories. It probably won’t be that, but that’s kind of where my head’s at right now.”

The crew of the "Mission Imposible" defend against a water balloon attack during this past Sunday's Red Green Regatta. Photo by Jeremia Schrock/Sun Star.

By Jeremia Schrock

Sun Star Reporter

Despite being overcast, entrants into the 14^th Annual Red Green Regatta, named for the eponymous host of The Red Green Show, refused to let the weather dampen their spirits. According to KUAC, the UAF-affiliated public broadcasting station that hosted the event, the regatta allows participants to construct vessels out of “whatever floats their boat”, so long as the crafts construction includes at least one roll of duct tape – the “Handyman’s Secret Weapon.”

It might not have rained, but the event quickly became a wet one as both boaters and observers became enmeshed in a fierce water fight. Many regatta entrants floated down the Chena armed with water guns and balloons, while others equipped themselves with stationary slingshots capable of hurling a water balloon over 40 feet. As one boat drew close to the Cushman Street bridge, a 3-year-old aboard with water gun in hand, shouted, “Hi, Fairbanks!” before spraying water up at the crowd that had gathered. On the bridge itself, a man in camouflage cargo pants darted among individuals shouting, “Arr! Pirates!” before lobbing water-balloons at the boats below.

On a pedestrian bridge just outside of Pioneer Park, Michael Schwietert, 20, an applied sciences student at UAF, saw a friend float under the bridge below him. “Well, look at him!” he said, smiling, “He’s doing well for himself. He’s captain of his own boat!”

Robert Gambardella, of Gambardella’s Restaurant and captain of the Gilded Meatball, said that the regatta was something he had always wanted to do. Why the Gilded Meatball? Because his family and most of the crew are Italian. “Except Scott,” Gambardella said, looking over at a tall, shirtless gentleman.

“Yeah,” Scott began. “One Irishman and a bunch of frigging Italians!” he said, laughing.

Robby, Gambardella’s nephew, said that the regatta was great but that they had come under-prepared for the water fights. “Next year we’ll be better armored,” he said seriously.

While the regatta, according to KUAC’s website, is a “flotilla of fun,” some boaters used the event as a means of political protest. The crew of one boat, the Possum Lake, decided to draw an analogy between the gulf oil spill and Possum Lake itself, the notoriously filthy location in The Red Green Show. The craft, complete with a broken oil pipe lodged in a toilet bowl topped with an orange bucket that said “BP Cap”, was one of the more jarring boats in the flotilla. Frank Keim, the boatswain of the Possum Lake, talking about the recent oil spill, said that he felt that, “Red Green probably isn’t very proud of us.”

By Amber Sandlin

Sun Star Reporter

On July 1, students at campus computers were surprised to find out they were participating in an Alert Notification System test. The Alert Notification System is a software program operated by the Office of Information and Technology (OIT) and the UAF police department. The program was designed to alert students on campus to emergencies such as accidents, natural disasters or active shooters.

UAF recently integrated the program to include campus televisions and all campus computers. OIT support technician Josh Watts, a junior, said he had received a few frightened calls from students around campus saying their computers had frozen without warning and who didn’t realize they had to click on the screen to exit.

After the shootings at Virginia Tech in 2007, UAF began organizing a program called the Emergency Response System.  In the past three years, UAF emergency responders have added different forms of mass communication across campus in an effort to avoid chaos during a crisis. The July 1 test sent and received confirmation that over 350 students received their message in two minutes or less. However, students using Macintosh OS- or Linux-based computers connected to the University server did not receive the message. “We are currently attempting to produce a system wide communication emergency alert program,” said Randy Pommenville, UAF’s Emergency Preparedness Coordinator.

According to the Chief of UAF police, Sean McGee, the Macintosh and Linux computers are connected to the University network differently than the Windows computers. Chief McGee said that the program is still very new and that the company that developed it, Alertus, hopes to have Mac and Linux users able to receive the alert by the fall semester. The Alertus company noticed the budget changes, and cuts in schools and university’s across the country and decided to donate the software to help university’s become more safe without taking hits to their budgets. Students can download the program to their personal computers to receive these alerts while on campus. OIT is currently testing to see if this program will send out alerts regardless of the location.

Recently, UAF emergency responders began working with a company called Nixle, which assists in sending secure text messages across networks from the local police departments, communities and schools. Executive Director of OIT User Services, Karl Kowalski encourages students to subscribe to at least one emergency alert notification.  The university police department has a link on their main website connecting to Nixle where students can opt in to be alerted to emergency events happening on campus.

Another form of communication the UAF police department uses to get out an alert is university cable television.  A message can be sent out that will appear on all campus televisions hooked up to the university cable network.  Additionally, blue emergency telephones have been installed throughout campus that automatically connect to UAF emergency dispatch. Loudspeakers have also been placed on the top of the Gruening building that can broadcast emergency alerts.

Jon Keill gestures to one of his team mates ahead during the Fireweed 200 relay race on Saturday. Photo by Jeremia Schrock/Sun Star

By Jeremia Schrock

Sun Star Reporter

The Sun Star’s Jeremia Schrock reports on location as a team of UAF students competes in the Fireweed 200 bicycle race.

Team Killasaurus Wrecks left Glennallen at 12:30 PM. We reached the Tok-Valdez crossroads when Bippy spoke, “I hope Jon went the right way.”

“What?” Swibold asked.

“I hope he [went] the right way,” Bippy responded seriously. “Because if he didn’t, he’s going to Tok.”

Thankfully for the team, Keill had gone the right way. By the time we caught up to him, he’d gone more than six miles. As we drove passed Bippy shouted, “Jon, you’re a beast!” Keill looked up at her as we sped by and Bippy laughed, “I’ve seen that look before!”

“What look was that?” I asked.

“The ‘Oh, screw you guys’ look.”

When Keill and Bippy switched off, Keill lounged in the backseat. I asked him how he was feeling now that the team was halfway through the race. “Tired,” he responded, “My ass is feeling tired, too.”

Swibold chimed in, “My ass is sore, not tired.”

“Sore, tired. Same diff,” replied Keill testily.

A few moments later Swibold spoke up again. “I’m actually not looking forward to my next run,” he said. Keill was also starting to feel the effects of the race. As we left the official aid station at Grizzly Pizza and Gifts, Keill suffered a cramp just trying to hoist himself into the backseat of his car. By this point, they had barely reached the half-way mark.

As the hours continued to tick by, the rest time between runs began to increase dramatically. The terrain and a strong headwind were partially to blame, but by 4:00 p.m. the length of the day had begun to take its toll. As one particularly harsh gust blew past us in the car, Bippy shouted “Oh, eff you wind! Why can’t you go the other way?”

It wasn’t just the wind taking its toll on the team, but also fellow racers. Keill was racing on a mountain bike, something many racing aficionados look down upon. “I’ve gotten everything from ‘you’re hardcore’ to a sarcastic ‘good luck with that,’” Keill said. He wasn’t angry so much as annoyed. At least he was out here biking at all, he said.

5:30 rolled around and the team was forced to alter their line-up. Bippy’s left knee was swollen, which meant the team was down to just Keill and Swibold. Both remained determined, however, and were rewarded when Keill was granted a second wind. He’d biked a 5-mile stretch of hills in only 20 minutes, a feat which thoroughly impressed Bippy. Lady GaGa’s “Monster” was playing on the stereo as he arrived, and a tired Bippy directed the words at him, “That boy is a monster,” she said.

Jesse Swibold rides along the Glenn Highway during an early stretch of the Fireweed 200.

By 5:53, however, Swibold remained the teams only energetic member.

“I don’t know how much left I have in me,” Keill said. “My reserves are depleted.” At 6:00, the team spoke to a race official just outside of Thompson Pass, where the Richardson Highway ascends almost 3,000 feet in order to overcome the Chugach Mountains). The team wanted to know what the weather conditions were in the pass and if biking was still feasible.

“The pass is wet and windy,” replied the official. “Like usual.” Keill and I exchanged looks and he nodded. Team Killasaurus Wrecks was going to scratch.

Swibold wanted to keep going, but Bippy and Keill were simply exhausted. Bippy’s knee remained swollen and Keill was having a difficult time walking.

“We made it two-thirds of the way,” Keill said. “And that’s something.”

“If it hadn’t been for the weather we would have made it,” Bippy said. “It was fun until the wind got so bad that I lost control of my bike.” Swibold wanted to persevere and the team decided to let him bike the last 4 miles to Tiekel Lodge (the last checkpoint before Valdez). The team officially scratched 134.5 miles into the 193.9 mile-long race. Team Killasaurus Wrecks was now officially extinct.

For the team, the drive into Valdez was a mixture of exhausted napping and euphoric delight at being done. Even if they had failed to make it to Valdez on their bikes, they would still get there by car. Their consolation prizes: food, warmth and a long night’s rest.

Richard Dawkins, addressing a packed house Thursday, July 15. Photo by Jeremia Schrock/Sun Star.

By Heather Bryant

Sun Star Reporter

Richard Dawkins, famous biologist, atheist and author made his visit to Alaska to speak at UAF, an event causing controversy long before it happened. The UAF Socratic Society invited Dawkins, who waived his speaking fee.  Dawkins’ airfare and accommodations were entirely paid for by the Richard Dawkins Foundation.

Dawkins has published many books and traveled extensively speaking about religion and science. He established the Richard Dawkins Foundation in order to encourage critical thinking, a concept he feels religion tries to repress.

The speech, scheduled at 7 p.m., had already drawn huge lines by 6 p.m. The evening started with an introduction by Eduardo Wilner, who spoke of Dawkins’ published books.

“The Selfish Gene was published in 1976, and sold over a million copies. Harry Potter and the Bible sold more, but both of those are works of fiction,” said Wilner.

Despite the controversy it was a friendly crowd, with many of Dawkins’ opinions and comments met by an audience nodding and laughing. The only sign of dissent was a table outside where Karl Sapp, of the Campus Bible Ministries, handed out a pamphlet titled “Destroying the Delusions.” Mike Sapp, also handing out the pamphlets, said that, “[they] believe the Bible cover to cover.”

The presentation “Is Religion Good for Nothing?” covered Dawkins’ theories of why religion is a natural phenomenon and how it occurs. His theories include how children are hard-wired to believe what they are told by those older than themselves, most usually their parents.

“Teaching children they are going to hell is one of the most disgusting types of child abuse I can imagine,” said Dawkins to the crowd, prompting a round of applause from the audience.

Even after the presentation ended, much of the crowd remained to watch the question-and-answer portion. At least twenty people lined up with questions; however, time ran out before all could be asked. Taking Dawkins’ lecture to heart, one questioner joked he was “unsure who to thank” that Dawkins decided to come to UAF.

For a presentation that seemed to generate much audience approval, not all were satisfied with the style of presentation.

“I appreciated his discussion, but I wish he was a little more angry about it, like he is in his writing. When he speaks in public, he’s a lot mellower and he doesn’t try to start fights. When he’s writing, he’ll piss off whoever he wants to, which is nice,” said attendee Grant Wright.

Marmian Grimes, public relations officer with UAF, estimated that 1,100 people attended the event either in the Davis Concert Hall or in overflow rooms in the Gruening building. Even with the extra rooms, people were still being turned away for lack of space. The event was also webcast, with around 200 hits to the site.

“We got here 25 minutes early and there was no room. So we headed over to Gruening. After they got the audio and visual up, I only caught about ten minutes of it,” said attendee David Spencer. “I am looking forward to getting a couple of books signed. I have the God Delusion and the Selfish Gene.”

CORRECTION: The article originally stated that Richard Dawkins’ air and hotel fare were paid for by the College of Liberal Arts.  This was inaccurate.  The article has been corrected and as editor I apologize for the mistake that I made.

By Jeremia Schrock

Sun Star Reporter

The Sun Star’s Jeremia Schrock reports on location as a team of UAF students competes in the Fireweed 200 bicycle race.

The team was up before their alarms rang with the screeching tones of morning. They had slept for less than 5 hours, and were about to embark on a grueling 14 to 16 hour bike race. It was, without a doubt, going to be a long day for team Killasaurus Wrecks.

The weather was cold and partly cloudy, the perfect conditions for biking. If it were too hot outside, the team would run the risk of overheating and becoming rapidly dehydrated. “It’s cool, not warm,” Kennicker said. “Because once you get going, you’re going to heat up (fast).”

The team decided to go for the early 6:30 a.m. start, and Swibold volunteered to go first. After Swibold took off down the chute, the team and I piled into Keill’s Kia and drove 7 miles down the Glenn Highway to the Heck Monument (named for a state trooper killed in the area). There we would meet up with Swibold and Keill would switch off with him. The relay had officially begun.

One mile in, I spotted a sign that read “Rough Road.” I pointed it out to Bippy and asked, “Does that sum up the race?”

“I think that ‘Rough Road’ can describe all of it, and not just the physical,” she said.

We picked up Swibold and Keill set off. Keill took the team 8.5 miles farther down the road to Valdez. We picked him up at the Eureka Lodge and Bippy took it from there. Swibold was driving now. As I rode shotgun, I asked him how he felt after his first relay. “Light-headed, but only slightly. I’m getting better,” Swibold said.

A half hour later, I asked Bippy if she was feeling any better about the relay. “I’m a little tired, but the nervous feeling I felt in my gut is gone. Now that I’ve done [my first leg of the relay] I feel much better.”

Keill secured Bippy’s bike to the back of his car and gestured down the road. “Let’s mosey,” he said. “Let’s mosey at high speeds.” Keill grinned mischievously.

The team was 40 miles in and it was now 9:35 in the morning. Everyone had gone twice, Bippy was currently biking, and Swibold was contemplating the heat. He asked Keill what he thought he could do to stay cooler.

“Jesse, it’s okay!” said Keill. “You can take your pants off (and put on shorts). No one will see!”  Swibold started to change when Bippy appeared around a bend in the road. Swibold let out a shout of surprise and quickly pulled his pants back up.

By 10:26 the team had reached the quarter mark of the race. Less then an hour later Keill’s worst fears were confirmed when a boy no older then 13 peddled by. “We’re being beaten by a 12 year old,” he said, sadly.

Moments later, Bippy began to vent some frustration about the track. “God, the road is crap! It’s not smooth, and if you have any tread on your tires…” she paused, “It’s like being in a bog.”

I asked her what she meant.

“Because you’re trying to get momentum to go up a hill and if you’re sticking to the road that doesn’t happen. It’s like running in sand. You have to work a lot harder.”

We saw Swibold approach. Keill was rolling his bike up into position when Swibold called down to him, “Do you want me to keep going? I feel fine!”

“If you want to,” Keill replied. “It’s eight more miles to Glennallen!” Swibold just waved and took off.

“We’ll see you in Glennallen!” Keill and I shouted after him.

Thirty minutes later we arrived in Glennallen, the unofficial halfway point to Valdez. It’s considered “unofficial” primarily because it’s the only major town between Sheep Mountain and Valdez (if one takes the Glenn Highway), but is not the actual half-way point. The real 100-mile mark is actually close to 35 miles south of Glennallen. There was no need to tell the team that, however.

“Holy crap, we made it!” Bippy said, obviously relieved.

Ten minutes later Keill was off and, after gassing up, we set off after him.

By Molly Dischner

Sun Star Reporter

Monday night, former KUAC-er Libby Casey talked about her experiences in Washington D.C. as Alaska Public Radio Network’s Washington Correspondent in Schaible Auditorium.

Casey interspersed soundbites from people in the capital city with her own anecdotes about life there. Her talk was presented by Summer Sessions as part of their summer lecture series.

Life in the city, Casey said, was a whirlwind – especially at first. “It sometimes feels like a never ending episode of friends,” she said. The news business was also hectic. Days after Casey arrived in Washington, Ted Stevens was indicted. And when she made her first trip back to Alaska, Sarah Palin was tapped as John McCain’s running mate. (Casey was somewhere over the Midwest when the announcement was made.)

Because she was knowledgeable about Alaskan politics, Casey said she appeared on various TV shows to talk about Stevens, Palin and other Alaskan issues. Her first appearances were learning experiences, she said.

“When I look back at the footage, I look like a deer in headlights.”

Two years later, her opinion is no longer as coveted. “The networks don’t call so much anymore,” she said, adding that sometimes they’ll ask her about Palin family gossip. She usually turns those requests down. “I have nothing of substance to share,” she said.

Casey’s soundbites featured man-on-the-street style interviews as well as questions posed to Alaska’s delegation, other senators, and reporters based in Washington. She used them to articulate “Alaska: The View from Washington” as her lecture was titled.

In one clip, she asked someone what they thought of when she said Alaska. Her interviewee mentioned wildlife. “Do you think of Sarah Palin?” she asked. “No…she’s from there, right?” That clip was met with laughter and applause. Most of the other interviewees had heard of Palin. None knew who Sean Parnell is.

During the question-and-answer period, a UAF researcher asked how the university is perceived in Washington D.C. Casey said that people who were interested in research were aware of the university, but that overall, the arctic isn’t getting as much play in America as it is in other countries.

Jeffrey Cantor speaks to an audience at a community forum held at the CTC on June 25th. Photo by Jeremia Schrock/Sun Star

By Jeremia Schrock

Sun Star Reporter

The UAF Community & Technical College (CTC, formerly the Tanana Valley Campus) recently hosted a community forum with dean finalist Jeffrey Cantor. Cantor had the poise of an economist, the dress sense of a businessman and spoke with the knowledge and articulation of a scholar and a good-natured Brooklyn accent.

It also didn’t hurt that Cantor was a man with a message. “Who am I?” He asked the forum. “A community college educator.”

What is the difference between a community college educator and a university educator for Cantor? Everything.

Cantor sees the community college as a very different organization compared to a university campus. While universities act as “conservators of knowledge”, community colleges are “community driven organizations.” Cantor feels that the CTC is at a crucial point in it’s history, and that a movement is needed to lift the organization into its rightful place as Fairbanks’ first choice in preparing members of the community for both higher academia (UAF) and in the technical arts. “Every town needs a workforce,” Cantor said. “[I want CTC to be] that first choice to get a technical education.”

If selected as dean, Cantor intends to focus on several areas of the CTC, including recruitment and retention of students, especially Alaska Natives. Cantor also feels that several new programs, as part of the institution’s current five-year plan, should be introduced. Among these are adequate “technical preparation to bridge high school and college”, a tourism program, and “more specialized apprenticeships.”

Cantor is also aware of Alaska’s more rural nature and hopes to help “embellish online and hybrid (online/in-person) courses to help offset student transportation issues.”  He also hopes to save some programs that are struggling to fill classrooms by “co-mingling low enrollment sections so we don’t have to eliminate them.” Cantor intends to ensure that more students receive funding through federal community-based work grants.

When Cantor finished his introductory lecture, those in attendance began to ask questions. One community member asked what Cantor thought was the most important issue facing UAF? His response: “Money. The need for a better budget.”

While the majority of those in attendance were either older community members or university employees, there was a small contingent of concerned students. Chief among them was Ashley Moore, the current Miss Teen Alaska-American Co-ed 2010. Her major concern was money. “I’m a student and I want a good representative who will use my tuition money well.”

One issue that was asked several times, but in various forms, was “Why are you here?” Some members, including Jake Poole, the Vice Chancellor of University Advancement, asked Cantor if felt he could handle Alaska’s remoteness and temperature extremes. “Well, it’s a place very different from where [he and his wife have] been and are currently. The programs (at the CTC) looked solid and my visit over the past two days has confirmed a strong faculty.” He went on to add that while Fairbanks lacks the beaches of Pensacola, FL, where he resided most recently, city-wise it felt very similar.

David Guttenberg, the state House of Representatives Minority Whip, was also in attendance and asked Cantor very bluntly, “We all have the same question. ‘Are you gonna stay?’” Cantor responded that while he intended to make his tenure at the CTC his last job before retirement, Cantor would stay well past the accomplishment of his five-year goals. He considered his post at CTC to be his “final opportunity.”

His final opportunity to do what? “To grow and maintain a two-year institution.”

When asked if he felt that the questions asked him during the forum were at all hostile, Cantor shook his head. “Not hostility,” he said. “Simply concern.”