A historic series of apologies to Southeast Alaska Natives reached a ceremonial peak Saturday during a 12-hour gathering in Angoon where the U.S. Navy formally apologized for the 1882 bombardment that destroyed the village and killed six children.
The apology came a month after a similar apology to Kake for the destruction of that village in 1869. The Angoon ceremony also occurred during the same week Juneau’s municipal government apologized for the burning of the Douglas Indian Village in 1962 and President Joe Biden singled out the childhood suffering of Sealaska Heritage Institute President Rosita Worl in an apology for the U.S. abuse of Native children placed in residental boarding schools.
Tlingit residents in Angoon have for generations sought an apology for the shelling that, in addition to killing six children during the attack, resulted in the deaths of an unknown number of people due to starvation and lack of shelter during the winter. On the 142nd anniversary of the Oct. 26, 1882, bombardment, Navy Rear Adm. Mark Sucato returned to Southeast Alaska to deliver that apology following the one he offered last month in Kake.
“The Navy recognizes the pain and suffering inflicted upon the Tlingit people, and we acknowledge these wrongful actions resulted in the loss of life, the loss of resources, the loss of culture, and created and inflicted intergenerational trauma on these clans,” he told hundreds of people gathered in Angoon’s school gymnasium. “The Navy takes the significance of this action very, very seriously and knows an apology is long overdue.”
A long procession of Angoon residents representing many generations past and present lined up to speak following Sucato’s remarks. Shgen George, of the Killer Whale Tooth House clan, began with words she said were commonly spoken by her grandfather.
“This is how things come about. This is how it comes about. This is what is happening to us right now,” she said, first in her Native language and then English. “I am saying thank you for coming here where a sad thing has happened to us, but now is the time we will put our sorrow aside. We will wipe our tears. This is our grandfathers — these hats that we wear, they’re right here — and they’re the ones who are saying ‘Thank you.’”
Sucato on his visit to Angoon, located on Admiralty Island 78 nautical miles from Juneau, was accompanied by the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. The event was livestreamed by Sealaska Heritage Institute on its YouTube channel.
On a table in the center aisle of rows of white-clothed tables in the gymnasium a red-painted Native-carved wooden beaver sculpture rested with a Navy officer’s cap on top. The carving symbolized the community’s survival of the bombardment.
The beaver carving had a place of honor during the formal Navy apology for the shelling of the community.
The beaver’s story is essential to Deisheetaan clan history of Angoon. The carving was not destroyed in the bombardment of Angoon because it was at another location to celebrate a marriage. After the village’s burning in 1882, the beaver carving was affixed to the prow of the one remaining canoe — and the resulting Beaver Prow Canoe is known as “the savior of Angoon,” as it allowed villagers to haul firewood and food.
The beaver carving was almost lost in a different way until it was rediscovered in 1991 in the stored collection of artifacts in the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. A team of Tlingit leaders visiting the museum for consultation found it and reclaimed the carving under the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA). It was repatriated a few years later. As one of the few tangible items from the bombardment, the beaver prow continues to be celebrated as a crucial connection to the past.
On Saturday the wooden “aat.ow,” or living history object, was displayed with a Navy officer’s hat to symbolize the Navy’s apology. On the same table were two folded U.S. flags, letters, documents and the framed formal apology. A blue Tlingit robe lay between the hat and beaver carving.
The historic events of 1882 occurred over a five-day period in October. Misinterpretations and emotions boiled over. The situation began when a high-ranking shaman, working with a crew of the white-owned whaling station in nearby Killisnoo, died in an accident. The bomb harpoon he was deploying to shoot a whale exploded, killing him. According to Tlingit custom when a person dies all work must cease immediately while preparations for mourning begin. The whaling station men were stuck in the launch boat when it was beached so relatives could care for the deceased shaman.
As is customary for such a loss in the Tlingit culture, the Native people demanded 200 blankets as compensation. The whaling business superintendent refused and sailed to Sitka to get help from the Navy. The Navy arrived within a short time and demanded the release of the whaling launch crew, which was done, but upped the ante for the Natives to pay the whaling company double what the Angoon people had asked for: 400 blankets or the village would be destroyed. A hurried search among the small population of villagers came up with only 81 blankets. Meanwhile, the Native people had painted their faces with black mourning marks which the whites misunderstood as war paint.
Official Navy reports interpret events differently. In lengthy detailed correspondence from 1882, Cmdr. E.C. Merriman recounts threats and counterthreats after the initial accident. The reports justify the shelling and burning of Angoon.
The documents are posted in the online archives of the U.S. Navy at www.history.navy.mil. In an introductory paragraph titled “The Shelling of the Alaskan Native American Village of Angoon,” a letter sent 100 years after the bombardment to Angoon leader Charlie Jim Sr., on Sept. 14, 1982, then-assistant Secretary of the Navy Herrington wrote, “The destruction of Angoon should never have happened, and it is an unfortunate event in our history.”
While $90,000 was paid by the government to Angoon for property damage, an apology was requested.
“At 100 years we gave the Navy a chance to respond,” said Garfield George, Angoon leader who guided the Saturday ceremony. “Silence” was the response, he added.
However, for Saturday’s ceremony the Navy donated $20,000 to Angoon so residents could host the event as they saw fit, George said.
On Saturday the current Assistant Secretary of the Navy Karnig Ohannessian sat between Sucato and Navy Lt. Cmdr. Dan Williams at the guests’ table in the gymnasium. He and hundreds of others in attendance witnessed the formal apology generations of Angoon people had waited to hear.
“I am honored and humbled to be a witness today,” said Ohannessian, preferring to be called ‘Mr. O.’ “I learned an important expression today: Gunalchéesh. (Thank you). I hope today will be remembered.”
Sucato read the full apology detailing wrongs committed in 1882 by the military concluding, among other points, he “apologizes on behalf of the United States Navy for the pain, suffering and generational trauma inflicted on the people of Angoon by the bombardment of their village.”
After the apology was read, the room erupted in applause, cheers and foot stomping. Everyone rose to their feet in commemoration of the long-awaited moment.
With an eloquence epitomized in Alaska Native traditional events, George said, “We have heard the words we wished to hear.” He detailed the discussions that took place over teleconference calls for several months of planning in preparation for the Saturday apology. Initial conversations began in 2019.
After the apology, clan representatives moved to the podium and offered thanks to those who traveled for the apology and accepted the apology.
A special traditional carved wooden killer whale hat was presented and danced at the front of the room. It had been damaged in an accident in the same gym during culture classes. It was repaired and ceremonially welcomed back during the Saturday gathering. As part of this welcome, flakes of tobacco were sprinkled on it by guests and participants, conferring good fortune.
The ku.eex, or traditional party, in Angoon drew many people to the small community that has limited overnight accommodations. Several people boarded a chartered catamaran Saturday morning for a day trip from Juneau for the ceremony. As the afternoon of dancing, singing, commemorating and appreciation continued, the time approached for the passengers to be shuttled to the ferry terminal for the return voyage to Juneau.
Before the boat departed, guests gave short acknowledgment speeches. Among them were Worl, and U.S. Sens. Dan Sullivan and Lisa Murkowski.
In a unique talk, the great-nephew of Cmdr. M. A. Healy, who commanded the U.S. Revenue Cutter Corwin in the 1882 bombardment, spoke of his beginning gesture of reparations when he arrived in Angoon several years ago with 60 pounds of oranges to donate for the memorial party given for elder Lydia George. The community did not accept his apology at the time, but eventually he was invited to return and was honored by being given a Tlingit name by Angoon leader Andrew Gamble. He was treated with “tremendous courtesy by the Tlingit people,” he said.
Sometimes things come full circle, as with the Navy and its apology. Many speakers said this is the beginning of healing. In a gesture of that, by 7 p.m. the smudged black paint that indicated mourning was wiped off the faces of Angoon people and a declaration was made by George:
“From this day forward, no more crying.”
• Contact Laurie Craig at laurie.craig@juneauempire.com.