Steve and Madeleine
Our pilot in the small six-seater plane finally spotted a break in the
storm. He managed to land on a wing and a prayer on the barely visible
landing strip. The early winter storm followed us all the way from
Ketchikan to Juneau. We hailed a cab that took us to one of the few
hotels in town; the Baranof hotel. We had reserved a room for just the
one night. We had no jobs lined up and knew not a soul in town. We had to
conserve the little money we had saved from Dan’s logging camp job.
We struggled to the hotel lobby fighting our way through the icy Taku
winds and blinding snow. The hotel janitor who was industriously wiping
the inner lobby doors opened the door for me. I then I heard someone
say, “Hello Danny, it is so good to see you.” I turned to see the
janitor with a huge smile on his face approaching Dan, almost ready to
hug him.
When he heard that our circumstances were not exactly that good, he
invited us to stay with him and his wife Madeline, until we were
settled. We did for a few days. He fixed us delicious meals. He
had worked as a chef one time. We finally found lodgings at Mrs. Cabigas'
a few houses away.
Steve Palisa was a member of Dan’s father’s congregation, way back when
Dan was a little boy. Steve was originally from the Philippines and had
made his way to the States as a stowaway in the 30’s. He had worked odd
jobs, until he had made enough money to purchase a fishing boat. He then
fished for a living. Dan’s father befriended him, and Steve became part
of Dan’s life when he was growing up. Dan remembered some memorable
fishing trips with Steve. Steve married and settled in Juneau, Alaska.
The years rolled along, we landed good jobs and moved to better housing.
A few months later we built a home out of town and lost touch with
Steve. We would see him occasionally, but it seemed we just did not have
the time.
One day, Dan got a frantic call “ Dan, I have Steve’s car sitting in my
garage, it has been here for days, Steve’s in hospital, someone’s got
to do something with the car.” It was Mary, a family friend of Dan’s
parents, who lived by herself and happened to be acquainted with Steve.
I never did find out who took the car to her place.
We weren’t sure what we were to do exactly so we called a friend who
happened to know an attorney who helped us. We told Mary to hang on to
the car until we could help sort things out.
We visited Steve in hospital. He was curled up in a fetal position,
facing the wall. We asked him if we could do anything for him. He said,
“I don’t want to die in hospital, take me home with you Danny.” Steve
had been diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. The doctor told us that
Madeline said she was too ill to visit Steve at the hospital. In any
case he did not want to go back to the apartment. The hospital
authorities gave us permission; he did not have long to live and he had
no one.
While we were making arrangements for Steve to move in with us, we
received an urgent message from the attorney. We were to see her as soon
as possible. We dropped everything and drove over to her place.
“Madeleine committed suicide, there was no note.” she said. Someone had
to break the news to Steve, we consulted the doctors again. They said no
mention of suicide need to be made.
It seemed Madeleine too had no one. So here we were assigned to clean
the apartment for the next tenant. It was housed in a small wooden
structure typical of most houses in Juneau downtown. It was a strange
feeling going through someone else’s home. We started packing away Steve
and Madeleine worldly possessions in “giveaway” boxes.
In the bedroom
hidden away among some beautiful handmade linens and laces we found and
old well-thumbed photo album. It was an album of memories of a
privileged life stashed in a small dresser in an old weather-beaten
apartment on the other side of the tracks, in a small town in Alaska.
Madeleine gazed back at us; a child of about 8 dressed in a Japanese
kimono standing by her father who was dressed in Shogun regalia. There
were many a sepia toned photo of life in Japan. There were photos of
Madeleine, happily posing with friends in 1930 swimming gear. There were
others of her attired in Greta Garbo and Joan Crawford suits and gowns
attending high highfalutin “affairs.” I wanted to keep the album. I did
not. I don’t even remember what we did with it. I think we gave most of
her possessions away and the rest we gave to the attorney to dispose
with.
We broke the news of Madeleine’s death to Steve. We told him we would
take him to the funeral and then home. He just nodded, turned over,
faced the wall and we quietly walked out
The funeral day dawned. It reflected our mood. Somber and cold
with a constant drizzle. Steve stood over
Madeleine’ casket. Dan holding him on one side and a burley co-worker of
his from the Baranof hotel on the other. He wept silently. After the
ceremony we took him home to our A-frame cabin on Douglas Island.
Since he was unable to maneuver the spiral staircase to the upstairs
bedrooms we made a spot for him in our sitting room. The floor to
ceiling window by the bed looked out into a small glade in the woods. We
took time off from work and took turns staying with him. Sometimes we
got a chance to spend time with him together. One evening, a few days
after he had moved in with us he felt better. We had tea on the porch.
Under the long twilight skies, he reminisced on his days of youth,
fishing the many bays and coves of Southeast Alaska He said “Once I get
better I will take you fishing, like I used to when Dan was a little
boy.”
A couple of days later, Dan called me at work; around 1:00 a.m. in the
morning. I worked as a night auditor at the time. “Steve is dying” he
said. I called a taxi and told him to drive as fast as he could. I had a
dying man in my home. I don’t know if he believed me or not, but he sure
drove hell bent for leather.
It was a clear, crystal cold night. Dan held Steve’s left hand, I his
right. Steve quietly slipped away as Dan continued reading:
……"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will
fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort
me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness
and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in
the house of the Lord for ever……”
