In Buffalo, New York, recently, the Anchorage district’s Teresa Johnson recruited a young woman who had just completed a master’s degree in library science — another high-demand area — who seemed a particularly promising candidate: She was highly qualified and she loved winter sports.
"I remember her so well. She’d already been on the Internet and completely researched Anchorage, the cost of living, and had a list of questions for me," recalls Johnson. "She and her husband are interested in outdoor activities: winter camping, fishing, and snowshoeing. Her personal interests coincided with some of what the state has to offer, so it seemed like a good match."
Heather Fleming, 30, is now a librarian at Central Middle School of Science, an innovative school in a mixed socioeconomic neighborhood of Anchorage. For her and her husband, Patrick, 31, who is a carpenter, living in Alaska is a childhood dream come true. Nevertheless, the decision to move north — rather than to their warmer choices, Arizona or North Carolina — took some mulling over. Alaska can be not only cold, but expensive. The cost of living in Anchorage is about 25 percent higher than in Buffalo, with housing costs some 40 percent more, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
During her final year in the library science master’s program at State University of New York in Buffalo, Fleming heard that the Anchorage School District was recruiting on her campus, looking for librarians, special-education teachers, and other hard-to-find teachers. She signed up for an interview. What about the cost of living? she asked. In Alaska, she learned, there is no sales tax, no income tax, and residents receive annual dividends of as much as $1,700 from Alaska’s Permanent Fund (a state investment fund derived from oil revenue in which half of annual earnings are distributed to Alaska residents). By her calculations, that made up for the higher costs. Before she left the interview, Johnson told her that if she wanted it, the job was hers.
In the end, the Flemings decided to exchange warmth for the pursuit of adventure. Newly married, they packed their truck with possessions and drove up the Alaska-Canada Highway, or Alcan as the 1,400-mile road is popularly known. Built by World War II soldiers, the road wends northward from Great Falls, Montana, through three western Canadian provinces, to Fairbanks, Alaska. Camping in Canada’s spectacular national parks, the Flemings celebrated their honeymoon on the road. The wilderness and expansive skies of the sub-Arctic terrain nursed their imaginations about what awaited them in their new hometown. But what they found in Anchorage wasn’t what they were expecting.
"It was shocking to see that it is so urbanized," Fleming recalls. "You come to Alaska thinking you’re going to be living in the great outdoors, so it was surprising to find how much of a city it is."
Johnson was there to smooth the transition. She put the couple up in her own home, drove them around the city to acquaint them with their new community, and helped them find a mechanic to fix their truck’s engine, which had succumbed to the beating it got on the long, hard drive. Johnson’s care and nurturing of the newcomers paid off. Unlike many newly arrived teachers, Fleming didn’t leave after her first year.
It’s now her second year at Central, and she and her husband are happy with their new life. In Alaska, they discovered, escape from urban congestion is not far away. An hour’s drive can remove one to untrammeled solitude in the Chugach Mountains or the outdoor chic of a ski resort. Last winter, the two spent their leisure hours showshoeing through white scapes of spruce and birch. This winter, they’re looking for a house to buy.
