He wasn't a close, personal friend. He didn't know my name. I was not someone special to his life, nor he to mine. But Wally Hickel was a steadfast figure, always looming larger than life in the background - no different that Mt. McKinley in the Anchorage skyline. Ever present, striking, magnificent, and at times, the light would bend and the largest mountain on the continent suddenly appeared even grander, larger, closer.
Wally was the same way. Humble, approachable, hardworking. His ideas were larger than life, his work product grand and idealistic. When he fell, it was a giant hitting the ground, a large depression remained when he picked himself up, and went back on his journey.
In what seems like another lifetime I put together an event known as the Top of the World Cargo Summit, where the Municipality of Anchorage wooed deep pocket developers and international business concerns. The keynote speaker bailed last minute, I called Wally out-of-the-blue, he graciously stepped in.
With no notice, he delivered a speech that kept these slick businessmen spellbound. His calming presence, the wise Pioneer offering trail tales of hard work, adventure, and the joy of loving a country as captivating as Alaska were a compelling call to action to would-be economic explorers.
He was a star to set your course by, for by following in his path youwere sure to make your way home. North, to Alaska.
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