Moose Meat John
by Ron Maley
In 1949 I got on O'Hara bus lines in Mt.View. I was going to the Empress Theater on 4th. Avenue.
At the next stop a bearded man got on and sat down next to me.
He started telling me a story about his morning adventure.
He heard a noise outside his cabin and opened the door to see what it was, a big brown bear was about 20 feet away.
He grabbed his rifle from over the doorway just as the bear stood on his hind legs, he shot the bear in the mouth, the bear turned to run and the bullet came out his back side and hit right in the door jam.
I later learned his name was Moose Meat John.
By the way, he never payed to ride the bus. His 16 hunting cabins have saved many a stranded hunter.
I moved to Anchorage in 1946, lived in a tent house for 2 years. No water, no electric, best years of my life.
In 1951 I moved to Wasilla where my folks ran the Wasilla Road House.
A Note from Anchorage Memories
We have read this story online before... One thing is certain. Alaska has no shortage of characters.
From grizzled old prospectors and trappers to homesteaders living way out in the bush. In all our years in Alaska, we met our share. And they loved to tell their sometimes "very tall tails" to anyone who would listen, or buy them a beer.
Maybe, this is one of the many reasons that Alaska is often referred to as "the Last Frontier." It's a place where colorful characters still dot the land and where a campfire, a bar, or even a city bus is a great place to hear their stories.
But above all, these characters and these stories have one thing in common. Alaska.
It's a land big enough to hold them and amazing enough to make their stories believable.
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