Wednesday November 11th, 2020
The Atlin Whisper “Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world.” Margaret Mead
The Tradition of the Latch String Atlin News Miner 1974 Diane S Smith When the Latch String is out on a cabin door it means, “Welcome, stranger, be my guest. Use my cabin and help yourself to my supplies. I may have to call at your cabin sometime when you are away, and I will expect the same hospitality.” But the symbolic unlocked cabin door has a deeper meaning. It signifies a faith in fellow Northerners and cheechakos (new comers to the north) as well an interest in the wellbeing. It is a pledge that personal property be respected and that generosity is reciprocal. It is a northern tradition that recent years has been badly abused. One winter when the mercury lurked at minus fifty, a young man was driving the Atlin road. He had arrived in Whitehorse that day by plane and had neglected to change to appropriate clothing before starting for Atlin. About sixteen miles from his destination he succumbs to drowsiness and road hypnosis and his vehicle plunged into the deep snow at the side of the road. The billowing cascade filled his engine compartment and smothered the engine. It would not start, so he couldn’t use the heater. Two miles farther on was an emergency shelter, his only hope, and he made a desperate dash for it. Soon in its black interior, he fumbled with matches and wood and was able to get a lifesaving fire going. These shelters, with their latch strings always out, were built and maintained by Atlin Highway Department. Their vital importance is recognized by Atlinites who travel the sixty-mile deserted Atlin Road in the winter. Others are not so concerned and the next summer windows and a stove were destroyed in one of the shelters. Why? Winnie Atcheson, Atlin correspondent for the Whitehorse Star, made a plea in her column that these cabins be respected and so they are by most. But her words fell on deaf ears of the pranksters, the weirdos, and the sickies that find their way into the north. One summer a man who was establishing a wilderness home for his family at the end of Atlin Lake, cached food supplies at a friend’s cabin on the lakeshore. Returning later to retrieve his goods he discovered they had been stolen. Gone also were the cabins owners’ lanterns and gas supply. None of these things were ever replaced. Why? On the other hand, some Atlinites used the same cabin for a summer holiday. When they left the grounds were clean and orderly, wood was stacked near the stove and food was ready for the next visitor. They understood the tradition of the latch string. As Atlin grows steadily in population, more residents are going off the beaten trails and into the wild for various reasons. Some are trapping; others are just looking for spots away from it all. Many have repaired abandoned cabins and registered them for taxes. Some have built new cabins. Each of these places is important to the owner. Each cabin is also important as an emergency shelter. Even a cabin suffering from disrepair could save the life of a lost or stranded man. Once, a man could leave his cabin vacant and unlocked for long periods, secure in the knowledge it might be used but never abused. Now a man leaves his place with certain misgivings. The latch string is out, but he wonders how things will be when he returns. Often his fears are realized and he returns to a damaged cabin and pilfered belongings. Why? Certainly, the percentage of destruction-bent individuals is no greater than years past. Maybe we are to blame because we let the tradition of the latch string drift into the dusty past when it should always be part of the present. Maybe we should dig it out. Dust it off and put it back into use again. It is, after all, one of the best of the Northern traditions.