All Good Things Must Come to an End
It's hard to believe that 44 years has passed since that June day in 1976 when Jan and I drove our 72 Pinto up the ramp of the Hoonah ferry terminal into an adventure that would last for this long. Driving through the town I was wondering what I had gotten myself into. We left sunny Charleston South Carolina and came to this land of mountains and water and rain in amounts I'd never seen before. The main road was nothing more than a narrow, muddy, rut -filled lane that two cars could only pass on in select areas. Houses along the road were so covered with mud that the paint wasn't visible and if the sun did ever shine you'd never know because the windows were streaked brown with so much mud that light couldn't penetrate. People walking down the road were in no hurry to get out of your way, and stared at you like you were on display in a circus. The few cars I passed had slogans like Indian Power and Custer Had it Coming. A lot has changed in 44 years. Hoonah has be
