My family and I moved to Juneau this April for a refreshing, peaceful new way of living, away from big city life. Ironically, I work in downtown Juneau where there is typically a lot of hustle and bustle that can be distracting, but I do my best to stay focused.
I was saddened to hear about the death of Steven Kissack on Monday. I could literally hear the gunfire from our office. It was a tragedy for everyone involved. My heart not only goes out to Steven’s family, but also to the brave officers involved, and their families, who had to make the most difficult decision a police officer hopes they never have to make in their lifetime, which will probably haunt their thoughts for the rest of their lives.
Even though I saw Steven and his beautiful husky throughout the workday almost every day as they literally lived across the street from my office, I regretfully never took the opportunity to speak with him. His husky was such a sweet dog. She was never on a leash, but always stayed close by Steven’s side. I never saw her bother anyone. She didn’t seem to care or notice others around her, and I never heard her bark. But that doesn’t mean she was always silent.
Amidst the lively and often distracting sounds of local tourism reverberating from the corridor downstairs, there was one distraction that always put a grin on my face, and I could not help but step away from my desk to appreciate the moment.
On occasions this sweet dog would step away from the comfort of his master, in what seemed to be an irresistible temptation she could not resist. Every time a siren could be heard in the distance she would, almost in a majestic movement, get up, slowly walk to the edge of the sidewalk, raise her head and begin howling with the sirens. As the sirens lowered she would stop — and would start up again as the sound arose. Once the sound of the siren fell far enough away, she would take a brief pause, and return to her master’s side and lay down. I took a couple videos of her singing from my office window.
The sweet sounds of this special dog were therapeutic for me. When I was very young, I froze in fear as I watched my 4-year-old sister being attacked by a large dog that almost ended her life and potentially took her right arm. By God’s grace, and because she was so young and her muscles hadn’t fully developed, she lived and recovered well. She doesn’t really remember the event and only has the scars to remind her of that traumatic event. My scars, however, are emotional and I have avoided and been afraid of dogs my whole life.
But about 40 years later, amidst the middle of someone’s unfortunate chaos during the sounds of rushing sirens, hearing this gentle, howling husky provided me with a soothing sound of peace and joy. I will miss this howling husky, and the peace and joy she brought to me and others, as well as her troubled master who always had her by his side.
Homelessness in this country is such a tragic epidemic that affects us all. And when homelessness ends in events like it did yesterday I can’t help but think if there is more I can do to help those who are clearly suffering. Unfortunately, there are many contributing factors to homelessness and those who refuse help cannot be helped. So for me, I am going to do a better job at doing…something. Maybe it’s as simple as a kind gesture or taking a moment to recognize someone’s existence as a human being and start a conversation with someone in hopes of making a positive impact in their life. I don’t know what else I can do, so I am going to start there.
• Jay Larson is a Juneau resident.
