Category: Alaska News

Post Content

Although it’s important that journalists practice diligence and deference, communities need to be willing to engage, forgive and voice concern.

Route 66 turns 100 this year, and the towns along it are making sure the whole country hears about it. Somewhere between Chicago and Santa … Read moreThe post Route 66’s 100th birthday is turning sleepy small towns into world…

Ask people in the Chilkat Valley about Dick Rice and many describe him in terms usually reserved for comic book characters, or for a hero from one of his beloved Louis L’Amour westerns. 

“His smile would melt glaciers,” said firefighter Al Badgley. 

“He never got his feathers ruffled. He never got upset. He was always positive. Just an amazing human being,” said friend Darren Schweinefus. 

“Guys wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him,” added fishing buddy Greg Schlachter. 

Byron Richard Rice Jr., or Dick, was born on Sept. 26, 1951 in Vero Beach, Florida. He survived a bout with throat cancer in 2018.  On Aug. 8, 2023 a hidden glioblastoma revealed itself while he was out shrimping and crabbing. He managed to get the boat and his passenger safely back to shore in Haines, but that caused he and wife Judi Rice to spend two of the last three years in Anchorage before moving to Jacksonville, Florida to be closer to family.  He died peacefully early on Feb. 25, 2026 at the age of 74. 

Rice made his way to Juneau in 1976, working a string of jobs — harvesting timber on Chichagof Island, teaching skiing at Eaglecrest, guiding raft trips down the Tatshenshini and Alsek. He joined the fire department as a volunteer and worked his way into a full-time job.

Thirteen years later,  Judi moved to Juneau too. The first time she saw him, she was out for a run on the airport dike trail; he was walking the other way with a friend. They passed each other, smiled, said hello, and kept going.

They actually met a little while after that, teaching students on the same career day at a local school. By the time the two started dating, Dick had already decided on a better story.

“He’d tell people we met in a dark, smoky bar, and then embellish further by saying it took him ten years to get me off the pole,” Judi said, laughing. “But I knew where it came from, his crazy sense of humor. It always got a laugh.”

They dated six years before they married. He taught lessons in ballroom dancing, along with country and swing. He taught her too. She’d come to Alaska more of a hiker and a climber; “He used to call me ‘terrestrial,’” Judi said. He was a water guy — canoeing, kayaking, running boats. 

Dick’s life on the water began with nearly losing it. 

He was barely out of his teens when drafted to fight during the Vietnam War.  He enlisted in the Coast Guard and was stationed in Hawaii on the Coast Guard Cutter Jarvis, which ran aground in the Aleutians in a violent storm in 1972. It was one of two things that happened to him young enough to leave a mark, Judi said. The other was a bout with Guillain-Barré syndrome which crept up his legs until he couldn’t walk. 

“I think it made him realize that nothing lasts forever — you’d better enjoy every day, because you never know,” Judi said. 

He came out of the Coast Guard knowing how to run a boat and spent the rest of his life making sure other people knew it too – through Alaska Rescue, a training company that took him from the Chilkat Valley to departments across the northwest. And through guides learning the rivers alongside him. 

One of them was Greg Schlachter, who fished with Rice for 25 years. On the Chilkat River, Rice ran his jetboat like he was still teaching a course rather than just taking everybody for a ride. 

“He had a protocol about running a jetboat that was way stricter than anything I would do, even with clients,” Schlachter said. Wading rivers taught more than years of doing it alone – including a trick for keeping his footing that Rice picked up from kayaking: brace with the rod, then slap the water with it to catch yourself before you went in. 

Out on the ocean, Rice had a favorite place to push people past where they thought they could go – just outside the Haines harbor breakwater, where the water turns into a washing machine when it’s kicking up. 

“Most people would never think to go in there,” said Joe Oesterling,  who founded the town’s sea kayak symposium with Rice. “But with him, they felt confident enough. He’d say ‘it’s ok, let’s go do it.’ People would follow him in, and it’d be fine, and they’d learn a lot.”

Judi watched the same instinct develop over three decades. When she met him he was still primarily a guide, someone who liked to wander the world. Somewhere along the way, teaching became the thing he built his life around. 

“He had an uncanny ability to work with a really wide range of people and somehow see their strengths and weaknesses,” she said. “He could identify what someone needed because he saw who they really were, and he loved people. He wanted to help them be the best versions of themselves, because that’s what he always strived for himself.” 

“He was the guide’s guide. He was in his 60s and 70s and still jumping in rivers, teaching you exactly how to do it,” said Schlachter. “He had a way of teaching that felt like pointers from a good friend…without challenging your ego.” 

Badgley felt that at the fire department.

“Even though he was really good at his job, he would not boast. You felt comfortable talking to someone that was a lot more knowledgeable than you are, so you don’t feel as intimidated,” Badgley said. 

Rice came to Haines to run swiftwater rescue training for the fire department, not because Haines could ever have a full rescue team, Badgley said, but because if somebody ended up in the water, there’d be enough skill in the room to get them out without anyone getting hurt. 

People who watched Rice under pressure kept coming back to the same word: control. 

Darren Schweinefus was  a Glacier Point guide when he met Rice. Schweinefus said he never once saw Rice’s composure crack. 

“He never got his feathers ruffled. Never got upset. He was always positive,” Schweinefus said. “He had such control over himself. It was amazing to see.” 

Now, when Schweinefus is out fishing or boating and puts himself in a risky situation, he thinks of all of the things he learned. “It’s like I got a book put in my head that Dick wrote a long time ago about how to survive,” he said.  

Whatever it cost Rice to hold that together, he never let it show.

“I saw him get short with people sometimes, and I understood why he was doing it,” Schlachter said. “But he never got to the point where the stress was visibly showing. Maybe he had it on the inside – sure – but it didn’t show. ” 

In 2020, when a mudslide tore down the mountainside above Beach Road, burying two residents, many in town would show up to the fire hall each morning, not entirely sure what they were walking into. They’d circle up around Rice who’d tell them where to search and how to do it without getting hurt themselves. 

“There was a lot of chaos there, but if somebody was going to organize it, he was the prime person to make that happen because of his depth of knowledge on water events,” Badgley said. “People would trust his judgement and look for him to be a guiding light.”

Judi Rice said she feels lucky to have known him, which helps somewhat with the grief. But the emptiness he left behind is daunting. 

“He would just give me a big bear hug as soon as we were both up,” she said. “And he would always make us lemon water in the morning after we kind of learned that was good for us. So yep, every morning before we had our coffee.” 

It’s easy to understand how a medical condition that caused paralysis would make a man wallow. But Judi said her husband handled it with strength and grace, still trying to make every day the best day while the two were birdwatching, taking in the Florida sunsets, or reflecting on their decades of companionship.

There was one time they went on a river trip to help with a couple who had adopted a little boy, Zane. She said she and Dick fell in love with the three-year-old as the group made their way down the Black Canyon of Gunnison, right below Hoover Dam. 

“One night around the campfire, Dick had Zane sitting on his lap, and we were all just looking up at the stars – and a beautiful night – and this three-year-old took a big sigh and said, ‘I’m so happy,’” Judi Rice said. 

It stayed with them and became one of those things the two would say to each other when they were having way too much fun or something was so beautiful, there were no words. 

During the last year, even when Dick Rice was hurting, he would take the time to look at her and get the words out: “I’m so happy.” 

Dick Rice was preceded in death by his mother Ramona Rosa Rice, his father Byron Richard Rice, Sr., his sister JoEve Benedict and his father-in-law Karl Falk. He is survived by his wife Judi, brothers Drew and Dan, his mother-in-law Patricia Falk, his two sisters-in-law, four nieces, six nephews, close cousins and his best friend for 60 years, Joe Worsely. 

A celebration of life for Dick Rice will be held Aug. 29 at the Chilkat Inlet Retreat, 1995 Mud Bay Road. A tribute to Rice and shared stories will begin at 2 p.m., dinner will be served between 5 and 6 p.m. Bring a small appetizer or dessert to share. Call or text Judi Rice at 907-209-4780 if you have any questions.

The post The legend of Dick Rice: guide, teacher, firefighter, dead at 74 appeared first on Chilkat Valley News.

President Donald Trump announced plans to nominate Kyle Reardon, a federal magistrate judge and former prosecutor, to fill the last of three federal judge positions for the U.S. District Court for the District of Alaska.

Trump announced the nomination on social media on Tuesday, as well as picks for federal trial courts in Texas, Florida, Oklahoma, Kentucky and Louisiana. The move largely clears the backlog of judicial vacancies in red states, Bloomberg reported, setting the clock for the U.S. Senate to confirm appointments before the midterm elections may shake up majority power.

The Alaska federal judge seat has been vacant for over two years, since July 2024, when former federal judge Joshua Kindred resigned in disgrace following a judicial panel finding he sexually harassed and created a hostile work environment for his law clerks. 

If confirmed by the U.S. Senate, Reardon would become one of three federal judges in Alaska serving lifetime appointments. 

Reardon was one of a dozen candidates that expressed interest in the judgeship when U.S. Sen. Lisa Murkowski solicited applications last year. 

Reardon was appointed as chief magistrate judge for Alaska by Judge Sharon Gleason in September 2025. He is based in Anchorage and has served as a magistrate judge in Alaska since 2021, according to his resume. Magistrate judges are appointed by district court judges to four-year terms, and oversee a variety of judicial proceedings supporting the federal courts. They have many of the same powers as federal judges to hear criminal and civil cases. 

Over the last two years, Alaska’s two U.S. senators have been split about the selection process and who to nominate for the federal judgeship. In 2023 U.S. Sen. Dan Sullivan created the Alaska Federal Judiciary Council to vet candidates for vacant federal judge positions, a special committee designed to serve as an alternative to the Alaska Bar Association’s traditional review process.  

Under longstanding Senate tradition, judge picks normally advance only with the assent of both home state senators.

On Wednesday, both of Alaska’s Republican senators issued statements of support for Reardon. 

“Kyle brings extensive knowledge of both our state and our court system to the federal bench, having served the District of Alaska as a federal prosecutor and U.S. Magistrate Judge, a position he has held in Alaska for the past five years,” Sen. Lisa Murkowski wrote.

“His extensive experience, professionalism, and judicial temperament make him exceptionally well-qualified for this role,” she said. “I thank the President for nominating Kyle and helping bring Alaska’s District Court back to full capacity.”

A spokesperson for Murkowski’s office said Wednesday she has recommended and advocated for Reardon since the beginning of Trump’s second term in 2025, but declined to give more information about the delay in his appointment.

Murkowski shared a list of candidates who expressed interest in the role with members of the Alaska Bar Association who weighed in on each in a survey. For Reardon, 21% of the 407 total respondents said he was qualified, well qualified or extremely well qualified. One percent said he was not qualified, and 75% responded “don’t know.”

U.S. Sen. Dan Sullivan also praised the nomination, but his office also did not respond to requests for comment on the delay on Wednesday.

“Kyle has a strong background of public service in the law and the military,” Sullivan wrote. “Kyle offers a wealth of legal experience, a deep understanding of the numerous federal laws that uniquely impact Alaska, and a commitment to the principle that a judge’s role is to interpret the law, not to write law. Lastly, I want to thank members of my Alaska Federal Judiciary Council for working to evaluate candidates, including Kyle, for this critically important role.”

Reardon’s resume details a long career in law before his magistrate appointment. Prior to serving as a magistrate judge, Reardon served as a federal prosecutor as Assistant U.S. Attorney for the District of Alaska Anchorage from 2014 to 2021, and for the Eastern District of California from 2007 to 2014. He served as a judge advocate for the U.S. Army Judge Advocate General Corps from 1999 to 2005, including as a military prosecutor and an advisor on legal matters related to the Bush administration’s Global War on Terror. He attended the University of Virginia School of Law. 

In his letter of interest, Reardon noted the state’s judicial vacancies, and his knowledge and experience working in Alaska’s federal court system.  

“The law is essential for ensuring a just, civil, and prosperous society. At this time, when confidence in the judiciary is at historic lows, it is critical that a district court judge be someone who has a demonstrated record of service and leadership; is respected in their community; and brings a seriousness and commitment of purpose to the position,” he wrote.

“Moreover, in light of the current judicial vacancies that exist within the District of Alaska, it is essential that the person who is nominated to the position have experience and familiarity with the federal courts so they can serve effectively from the moment of their confirmation. I believe I am that person.”

SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE

Imagine tearing a ligament on a weekend hike and calling around for a price on the surgery, only to find that the same procedure costs twice as much at one hospital as it does at another less than a hundred miles away. No difference in the treatment, no difference in the outcome. Just a difference in the location.

That’s not a hypothetical. It’s what KFF Health News reported happened to Marcelle Crago, a nurse in Asheville, North Carolina, who tore her meniscus while cross-country skiing. Her local hospital quoted her more than $9,000 for the procedure. She postponed the surgery, shopped around, and found an outpatient center down the road, unaffiliated with the hospital, that charged less than a third of that price for the same operation.

It’s a North Carolina story, but Alaskans should recognize the shape of it immediately because we’ve been living a version of it for years.

Alaska has carried the highest or near-highest healthcare costs in the nation for 15 consecutive years, according to Alaska Department of Labor and Workforce Development data. Costs in Anchorage, Juneau and Fairbanks run about 50% above the U.S. urban average. Urban Alaskans spend roughly 12% of household income on medical care, compared with 8% nationally. Providers here charge commercial insurers more than twice what Medicare pays for the same professional services, the highest ratio of any state in the country.

These numbers matter because they eventually show up in the places that affect everyday life: family budgets, business expenses, employee paychecks and monthly premiums.

 Hospital care drives the bulk of it. Nationally, hospitals accounted for roughly 40% of the total growth in healthcare spending between 2022 and 2024, more than any other part of the system, and consolidation is a major reason why. As more physicians and clinics become part of larger hospital-owned systems, the same visit or procedure often costs more, simply because of where it happens to take place. Alaska is especially exposed. A small population spread across enormous distances means limited providers in any given region. When the next option for care is a plane ticket away rather than a drive across town, the competitive pressure that holds prices down elsewhere doesn’t exist.

To be fair, delivering care in Alaska is genuinely expensive. Recruiting clinicians in a high-cost state, maintaining services across roadless geography and absorbing federal reimbursement pressures are real burdens our providers carry. Healthcare affordability is a challenge we all must tackle together.

But after 15 years among the most expensive healthcare markets in America, we should be willing to ask hard questions about what is driving those costs and who ultimately bears them. Premera Blue Cross Blue Shield of Alaska has served this state since 1952, before statehood. We believe Alaska families and employers deserve a healthcare system that is both high quality and affordable. When healthcare costs rise faster than wages, inflation and economic growth, the consequences are felt by every household and every business that provides coverage. Increasing health insurance claims and premiums are a function of the underlying cost of care, with more than 90% of every premium dollar received going straight to the providers of care, largely driven by hospital costs.

The conversation about healthcare costs cannot stop at premiums. We need greater transparency into the prices charged throughout the healthcare system so Alaskans can better understand what drives the bills they receive. We also need policymakers, purchasers and healthcare organizations to work together to address the factors that make Alaska an outlier year after year.

Affordability is not an insurance issue. It is an Alaska issue.

The nurse in North Carolina only had a road to drive down for more affordable care. For too many Alaskans, that road doesn’t exist. There’s only a plane ticket and a much longer wait.

Until it does, making healthcare more affordable should be a priority for all of us.

SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX.

Two-thirds of Americans are worried about climate change, but many don’t realize how they can play a significant role in climate action — at least, not yet.

Deadly wildfires regularly scorch California. Last winter, much of the Rockies received record-low snow, signaling water woes for millions. Then a spring heat wave hit the West, decimating what little snowpack remained. Many people understand that scientists attribute the intensity of such events to the climate crisis, but it’s not always clear how that knowledge can translate into action. Atmospheric scientist Katharine Hayhoe has a suggestion for where to start: Talk about it.

Hayhoe, a professor at Texas Tech University, is known for both her research and her outreach, including her Talking Climate newsletter. She has a knack for connecting with people and meeting them where they are while also keeping the big picture in mind. High Country News recently caught up with her to discuss why it’s important to talk about climate, and how to do so.

Through her writing and public events, Hayhoe emphatically makes the case for hope amid a world of climate despair, doom and denialism. Perhaps the 2030s will bring a new mass movement, calling for bold climate action and transforming society for the better. If so, Hayhoe shows how that future may have humble beginnings, arising from numerous chats with neighbors and classmates, at bus stops and barber shops, in everyday life.

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

High Country News: You’ve argued that we can solve climate change by talking with others about it. 

Katharine Hayhoe: I’ve argued that the first step is to have a conversation. What people don’t understand is that talking catalyzes action. If we want to catalyze action in any sector, whether it’s in electricity, transportation, food, resilience or anything, talking is the first step.

HCN: How does talking catalyze action?

KH: First, if you look at the data, the majority of people are worried about climate change. In the U.S., that’s about two-thirds; in other countries, it’s more. Yet less than half of them hear someone talk about climate change even once in a while. If we don’t talk about something, why would we care? If we don’t care, why would we do anything?

We need three things: “head, heart and hands.” The head is understanding that this thing is real and it’s happening, and that’s where a lot of people already are right now. But sometimes when you ask people who are worried about it, “Do you think it will affect you?” a lot of people say, “No.” But it’s already affecting you; you just haven’t connected the dots. So, we need to connect the head to the heart.

Then we need to connect the heart to the hands. What do real solutions look like that are already being implemented and can be scaled and can make our life better? That’s what I’m talking about talking about.

HCN: I’m calling you from my home in California, where we’ve got increasingly intense wildfires, heat waves, sea-level rise, droughts and occasionally floods. How do you see lived experiences like these driving — or not — calls for systemic change to address the climate crisis? 

KH: I live in Texas, which is similar to California: We have every type of disaster you can imagine.

For years, I’ve been asking people: Do you feel like the weather is getting weirder? I haven’t had a single person tell me they didn’t think so. Most people have tons of stories to tell me. Then I just help them connect the dots. I say, “That’s exactly what’s happening here, and it’s happening all over the U.S. and all around the world. This is the number-one way that climate change is affecting us.” Then we’ve closed the head-to-heart gap, just like that — and they did it themselves.

“What people don’t understand is talking catalyzes action.”

– Katharine Hayhoe

HCN: What do you think about systemic change at this time when it seems like even modest climate-related policies are being dismantled by the Trump administration?

KH: There’s no question that the current administration is doing its best to alter the slope down which the giant boulder of climate action is rolling. That’s the way I think about it. That giant boulder is already rolling down the hill, and it already has millions of hands on it — and federal policy can change the slope, making it easier or harder for that boulder to roll downhill.

When you look around at individuals, and cities and companies and states in the U.S., action is still happening, even though it’s the federal government that dominates headlines. That boulder is rolling down the hill. You cannot stop clean energy.

HCN: Lately, we’ve seen a “climate hushing” phenomenon: a reluctance to discuss the subject, seemingly because of today’s political atmosphere. How have you seen that play out?

KH: I think that it is primarily occurring in response to the U.S. federal government. I have noticed a decrease in the number of people and organizations who want to talk about climate change, especially organizations concerned about the potential for reprisals from the federal government.

HCN: What do you think is the best way to combat climate hushing? 

KH: If you really understand (the benefits of climate action) and you understand what’s at risk if we don’t act, then we can talk about these actions in ways that do appeal to people.

Years ago, I was starting to realize that climate change is a hot-button phrase. I was asked to speak to our water managers in Texas, who are very focused on data, long-term trends and droughts. The two people speaking before me at the conference were a state representative and a state senator who explicitly rejected the reality of climate change — so I thought to myself, why don’t I try something different?

I’ll talk about all the same things: I’ll talk about climate variability, historical data, future projections and climate resilience. But I’ll never say the words “climate change.” So I did that, and everybody liked it, and there were lots of positive comments and feedback. The funniest moment was when one woman ran up to me afterwards and grabbed my hand and shook it up and down. She said, “That was fantastic. Everything you say makes sense.” And then she said, “Those people who talk about global warming, I don’t agree with them at all. But I agree with everything you said!” That showed me that it’s more what we talk about than how we talk about it.

HCN: A lot of people are feeling despair about climate change. But as Rebecca Solnit and others have said, it’s not too late to make the future less bad. Do you have thoughts on how to encourage people to channel that despair into motivation and climate action?

KH: People who feel despair are 100% there in the head; they get it. Many of them have also made the head-to-heart connection. They understand that it’s about their future, and the people and places they love. But they have not made the heart-to-hand connection. They think there’s nothing that can be done.

What’s partly at fault here is our very Western focus on individual action, like eating plant-based, what we drive, how we travel, how we live. As Bill McKibben says, the most important thing an individual can do right now when it comes to climate action is not be such an individual.

Work together with others. That’s how social change has happened in the past. It didn’t happen because of people taking action in their personal life; it happened because of people using their voices to advocate for change. We know some of their names, like Martin Luther King Jr. There were thousands of other people who marched with him and advocated with him. Those people are us, and that is how we can change the world.

We welcome reader letters. Email High Country News at editor@hcn.org or submit a letter to the editor. See our letters to the editor policy.

This article appeared in the August 2026 print edition of the magazine with the headline “Why climate conversations matter.”

This article first appeared on High Country News and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX.

(The Center Square) – In Michigan, center of the U.S. auto manufacturing, just a week can make a dime’s worth of difference in the price of a gallon of gas these days.

A bigger pack of ground beef goes further when dinner does not repeat itself. These 15 recipes cover burgers, chili, soup, pasta, burritos, meatballs, and casseroles for plenty of different nights.The post 15 ground beef recipes that make the case…