Moose Meat John

by Ron Maley
(Washington)

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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Comments for Moose Meat John

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My Great Great Grandfather
by: Anonymous

He was my great great grandfather.

I Loved hearing the stories of him and his love for the community.

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My painting of Moosemeat John
by: Betsey Ficke

In 1958/59 I was in an Anchorage Community College watercolor class.

One of our subjects was "Moosemeat John".

I still have a wonderful watercolor painting that I did then of Moosemeat John in my house here on Maui.

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He Was My Great Grandfather
by: Pearl

I always heard stories about him, (he was) my great grand father.

My mother Beverly said that when her mother was away, he would take care of her and her sister Nancy.

My mother also said that he made the most awful stew ever. He tried to take care of babies but he wasn't a good cook.

My mother loved him with all her heart, she even named her first son after him.

She mentioned that he always smelled smokey like a camp fire.

And my mother remembered him as a loving, kind man who called her "cookie" because she wanted cookies instead of that awful stew he always made.

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Moose Meat John
by: Ron

When my folks went to VFW meetings, I would follow John around town.

He was a door checker, that's what I called him.

He did night security for a lot of business in town. We would always start at the Ambassador Club. My folks always new I was safe with John. We walked the whole town, and my dad would pick me up at O"Neils bar at the other end of 4th. He was a great guy Marv. I was 13

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Grand Uncle
by: Marv Hedberg

Moose Meat was my Grand Uncle.
I always like hearing stories about him :-)

Marv Hedberg, Minnesota

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"Bear at the Door"
by: Mary J Dougherty

Very interesting story and to learn about the cabin that helped save hunters lives.

Living in Alaska in the 40's and having the outdoor experience must have come in handy.

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