Last summer I had a day to kill in Dillingham. I had flown out to do an inspection at the Kanakanak hospital, but that took less than an hour and my flight didn’t leave for six more hours. So I headed to Dillingham to have a look around.
I find old cemeteries in small towns fascinating. Anchorage doesn’t have much history. Dillingham does having been around almost 200 years. This cemetery was very old and peaceful.
Most of the names were Norwegian or Swedish. All of them seemed to have drowned, accepted for the infant sized crosses. Though most graves had neat white crosses, each had something unique about it. There was no gird or pattern. Graves were placed every which way with a path meandering through the tall wide grass.
As I took this picture I couldn’t help but wonder who Viktor Bertel was and what happened in 1903. When I got back I tried searching several genealogical websites with no luck.