Mike Jackson

Mike and Joan lived just down the road from my parents and were great friends and help to them. Mike was creative and inventive, especially with mechanical things, and a perfectionist in everything he did. Mike will be missed. Carol Davis and Jim Altherr

In honor of Awesome friend, exceptional person, Mike Jackson:

Reflections on Friendship
A Tribute to Mike
Feelings of Gratitude:

Jackson, Jackson
Strong and Kind
Gentle Wind upon my mind

Ever Humble, Ever True
Steadfast, Loyal through and through

Lean in, Listen, with calm Inspire
Stories, Adventure to admire
Close my eyes, feel the Season
Always uplifted like a Beacon

Fly Free Forever and Soar.
You are a Sheltering Tree,
An Anchor to hold steady,
A River flowing endlessly,
A Stream to guide.

I will always smile and laugh,
Forever comforted and strengthened with tremendous memories
of your friendship,
Thank you, Mike Jackson, for making Life beautiful, rich and meaningful.

It is never Goodbye.
You are always here, in my heart.

Thank you, Mike, for always being a great friend.
You were always there with a welcoming spirit.
I will miss you. We will miss you.

With Love and Gratitude,
Your Friend, Renee Peschel-Stroth

In '70 and '71, Mike and I worked with Dave Solf, first on an egg dig survey of index streams in fall of '70 and a fry dig the following spring. Both unforgettable trips. The Montague was new in '71 and Dave, Mike and I bunked in the lab. One stream sticks out in memory. We were digging 20 or 40 points up a stream in the southwestern district, stream 655?, and it was sleeting. Pure misery. A water ouzel seemed to follow us maybe waiting for whatever edible we might churn up. Mike suddenly pretends to make a radio call to Big Red's Flying Service on Lake Hood: HOLA, ES DEES AEREONAUTIS(?) DE ROJO GRANDE? COME GET ME QUICK!!!!!

Later that night when the lights went out in the Montague, Mike's voice pierced the darkness in the lab: DEAR PRINCE WILLIAM, IN REFERENCE TO YOUR SOUND. THE WATER OUZEL ON STREAM 655 WAS OBSERVED NOT DOING IT'S JOB. THIS CAN NOT AND WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. CC K. MIDDLETON, S. PENNOYER.

Harry up in top house bunk must have wondered what the laughter was all about.

Before the Montague arrived in Cordova an old 30 ft cabin cruiser named the Cutthroat was the temporary research vessel. The Fish and Game Navy then was a collection of Fish and Wildlife Service cast offs, retired, unsaleable etc boats. Such was the Fish and Game budget in 1970. The Cutthroat had a planing hull and a screaming Jimmy that reportedly came out of a wood boat called the Grizzly Bear. The engine was so tall that the it had a raised cover. We plodded along in a fast hull boat at about 7 knots.

One evening we were anchored off Indian Creek in Galena Bay and getting ready to eat dinner when a williwaw hit. The bay suddenly went from flat calm to huge waves and we immediately drug anchor. Mike and Dave pulled the anchor while George Cunningham ran the boat. I was in the cabin trying to control the plates and pans. It was an easterly blow that took the roof off the Cordova hospital and knocked down timber at Cannery Ck. We bucked into it for 6 hours and slowly worked our way out the bay into Valdez Arm and ultimately hung on to the Coast Guard buoy at Ellamar. The only damage was to a marine chart that fell from the ceiling map holder, landed on the dinner table, momentarily unrolled and an open bottle of French dressing happened to spill on it before it rolled back up.

A few days later we were in Eshamy Lagoon and the saltwater engine cooling pipe broke while Dave, Mike and I were on shore. George Cunningham was on board and repaired the leak. A few years earlier we coulda shoulda and maybe woulda have died. I wonder which rock they'd have named me after.

Mike called the Cutthroat the Deep Throat. I last saw that boat in the Homer harbor about 10 years ago.

After about a week to 10 days on the Cutthroat we returned to Cordova arriving about 5 pm. The ADFG dock was slightly different then with the Bartlett ferry dock nearby. We tied up the Cutthroat with skiff attached to stern. George went home and Dave, Mike and I went up to the Cordova House for just one beer. Five hours later we got back to the boat and discovered the skiff was gone. After a closer look we saw that the tow line went straight down. Oops. The skiff must have drifted under the ferry dock and the rising tide swamped it. We towed it out of the water with Mike's '60 Chevy truck. The outboard and pump went to Cordova Outboard.

Dave did not drive and I wonder if part of the reason Mike was hired was to be Dave's chauffeur. Dave lived close to the Shaw's and they drove Dave around after hours.

Dave had been a perennial temporary employee going back to 1952, I believe. Dave was a naturalist (BS from Washington State) interested in river otters and sea birds, but nobody was hiring naturalists so he worked summers on pink salmon. Wally Noerenberg had been the first Com Fish research biologist in Cordova and when he became chief fisheries scientist in the mid '60s(?), Roys was hired for the Cordova research job. When Wally became Commissioner, Roys became chief scientist. Dave was the heir apparent for the Cordova job but was reluctant to take it. Wally said he flew to Cordova just to talk Dave into taking the job. Wally said he thought he had Dave sold on the job until he was getting on the jet and Dave said: I don't want the job. Oops. I wonder if Wally sweetened the deal by creating a tech PCN as Dave's assistant?

I could type for a few hours on Dave Solf but I'll leave it like that for now.

Back in the 1970's Mike and I were dive partners doing the first research on the kelp communities of PWS. Well one Saturday morning in mid-September I get a call from Mike and he asks if I wanted to fly down to Katalla in his plane. It turned out that the little river adjacent to the old townsite was packed with thousands of bright, coho salmon.. He had secret info from ADF&G about the numbers of fish that just entered the river. So, we jumped in his 2-seat Citabria and landed on the beach. The pools were full of fish and we released dozens of big silvers-keeping maybe way too many. I even jumped in the so-called "Hollywood" pool and swam around with my dive mask looking at all the salmon. Time to go was when the low tide started to turn. Looking back on our excursion we may have taken too many fish. The little Citabria was not meant to be over weighted with a couple hundred pounds of salmon. Taking off along the shoreline was always going to be tricky, so when the plane needed to lift off and clear the tree line every bit of power was in play- and than some! We actually brushed the branches of one of the pine trees growing near the river. Landing back at Eyak Lake field felt like a major win. So, when I got out of the plane and started to walk home, Mike yelled at me-"Hey Rick don't forget your wet underwear". I turned around a said something like no problem-I'll get it later. That brought out Mike's humor knowing that we had luck on our side. Many times after that event, he would remind me of my running off without my wet undies.

Mike was a patient man. He helped may become a halfway decent skeet shooter. When he shot, he had his own rhythm, like it was a song that only he could hear. I am going to miss him.

Mike was always available to help cook. He helped with fish fries, pizza competition, making his famous salmon and halibut. He was the king of ribs.
Loved seeing him around town in his motto usually with the dog in the side car.
Can’t forget his famous chicken cooked over the fire made from the old washing machine tub. Once he flipped the chicken over happy hour was over and it was time to go home. Those happy hours at the trailer park became pretty famous. We had so many great times and wonderful memories. We could always count on Mike to be there for us. We miss you Mike. 🍷🍺

We lost a good man. Always enjoyed working with Mike while in Cordova.

I miss my FRIEND MIKE every day! A Man among Men, who could be trust completely! The world is not the same without him! I am glad to be his friend as he is mime! Dewey

Always in our hearts! I will never forget our road trips, enjoying the conversations full of wisdom you used to share with us. Sending a hug up to heaven—fly high, my friend! Will meet you there

My memories of our many adventures will always be with me.

Mike loved his birthdays and fireworks!