Schools in Sitka, Juneau, and across the state of Alaska have received new names in recent years.
Now in Ketchikan, borough assembly members heard a proposal to rename Schoenbar Middle School. The proposal also suggests naming the building that houses Ketchikan High School after Elizabeth Peratrovich, who is an alum. The issue was discussed at a recent assembly meeting.
But what is behind a name?
Schoenbar Middle School is ostensibly named after Schoenbar Creek, an off-shoot of Ketchikan Creek which runs through town like a crooked backbone. The creek took its name from a mine near its mouth. That mine was owned by a man named Col. John Shoenbar, without the “C.” More on that later.
But who was John Shoenbar? And why are there schools and roads and creeks named after him?
“The facts didn’t matter as much as what you were selling. And he, of course, in Ketchikan, was selling a large goldmine.”
– Dave Kiffer
The Man with the Mine
By all accounts, Shoenbar showed up in Ketchikan around 1900.
Dave Kiffer, local historian and mayor of Ketchikan, has been researching and writing about Shoenbar for years.
“He first shows up in some of the early mining journals, stories about him. He was obviously a promoter. He was what we like to call in the frontier, “a charming rogue,” says Kiffer. “He was very, very high society wherever he lived. Unfortunately, in every community he lived in, when he left, he always left behind debts.”
He was well-dressed and charismatic – tophat, cane with a silver knob on it, ambiguous worldly accent, the whole nine yards. An element of mystery hangs about him though – and not just because of lost history and spotty census records.
“Details about his life are unclear at best,” Kiffer explains, laughing. “As they usually are with charming rogues, you know. You’ve always got to just say ‘ehh.'” The facts don’t matter that much as much as what you’re selling. And he, of course, in Ketchikan, was selling a large goldmine.”
According to historians, Shoenbar had been involved in mining situations in Maine and in Nevada going back 30 years before showed up in Ketchikan.
Shoenbar seemed to know a lot about mining. And he was in the right place for it.
These were the years immediately following the Klondike Gold Rush. The smell of wild riches were still in the air and people in Ketchikan were desperate for a whiff of opportunity.
Shoenbar quickly embedded himself in the town structure – joining the predecessor of the town’s chamber of commerce. He threw parties and fundraisers.
“Colonel” is a self-given title. He was a lieutenant with the fire department in Maine and then when he showed up in Ketchikan, he was the titular Col. John Shoenbar. No one knows why.
And then he struck gold on a claim up Ketchikan Creek in what is now Bear Valley. Or, at least, he said he did.
“He talked a good game. He had just enough to sound like he knew what he was talking about. He would literally walk in and sell people on investing in his mine,” says Kiffer.
And so he went back East to drum up support, which wasn’t hard. If there was one thing Shoenbar was good at mining – it was investors.
“Everyone was saying, ‘well, Alaska is full of gold,'” Kiffer explains. “And he basically managed to go back East and – I guess ‘bilk’ is kind of a strong word – but he ‘relieved’ East Coast investors over the course of five years of an estimated $100,000.”
That translates to over $2 million today. A huge goldmine next to a growing town in Southeast Alaska? You can almost hear the cartoonish “cha-chinging” ringing in the investors’ ears.
“Everyone wanted to believe,” says Kiffer. “Particularly in those days because Juneau was getting wealthy because they had mines right next door. Why isn’t Ketchikan? We have all this quartz! Why don’t we have mines here?”
But the self-appointed colonel would quickly learn why.
“Well, for whatever reason there’s very little gold right next to Ketchikan. But he convinced everyone that – yes, indeed, up what is now called Schoenbar Creek in Bear Valley, there’s gold,” says Kiffer, pausing. “There wasn’t of course.”
Shoenbar hired another man who had claims along the creek to manage the mine while he drummed up funds. The other man was a towering miner, and the future director of Ketchikan’s public works, named James Allen Hart. The 6 foot 7 inch prospector is also Kiffer’s great-grandfather.
Hart did the mining while Shoenbar courted investors but by 1906, it all dried up.
Shoenbar had spent the money he’d gotten from the East Coast investors, as well as the funds he was fronted by his friends at the local chamber of commerce, and owed Hart nearly $85,000 in today’s money for his work on the mine. By the following year, he was gone.
“Everywhere Shoenbar went in life, he took money from people and did not repay that money but, as I said before, he was a charming rogue and everyone wanted to jump on the bandwagon with the Colonel,” Kiffer says.
Shoenbar was lost to history after he left Ketchikan in 1907. Historians believe he died in Oakland, California in the spring of 1920, but there are no records to prove it.
Shoenbar wasn’t held in high regard in those years. Sometime after that though, the creek near the mine was named after him. No one knows why but Kiffer theorizes probably just the quick judgment of a federal mapmaker – “The old Shoenbar mine was near here, let’s name it Shoenbar Creek.”
Kiffer says that is also probably how the “C” got added, just a typo in a mining journal or on a map. It makes sense – many of the names that define any place were just a quick scrawl on a hand drawn map once.
Downstream
Chad Frey is sitting in his empty classroom on a sunny day. The mine doesn’t exist anymore but if it did, it would be a few hundred feet uphill from where he’s sitting. He has taught history at Schoenbar Middle School for almost 18 years.
“Schoenbar is my home,” says Frey. “I mean, I love teaching here. I love my content that I’m teaching here. I love the staff here. And so, I just want Schoenbar to be the best place it can be and the most welcoming place that it can be.”
This is why Frey took the podium at a recent borough assembly meeting to speak in favor of renaming his home.
“One of the most important things we can have at a school is visual representation of leaders from many different ethnic groups, because when students walk into a school, they see a visual representation of themselves,” Frey adds.
For Frey, renaming the school isn’t about the school itself. It’s about the students. He says his number one job as a teacher is to make students feel safe.
“So then they will take chances in their learning,” Frey explains. “I just think that if students have a greater connection with school, then they will show up more. But if they have historical trauma from their uncles, their aunts, their mom, and their dad at a school, then they’re not going to be part of the community events that happened at the school.”
“But the whole idea of reconciliation, for me is the center of it,” Frey says, adding that historical trauma can be a barrier for education, especially for his Alaska Native students. “Just look at the history of Alaska Natives in their education system in Alaska, and across the United States.”
There are those that disagree with renaming the schools though. One is Shemaine Thomas, who spoke at the same borough meeting.
“The expense and manpower needed to make a change like this are simply not justified in my mind,” Thomas told the assembly. “The money funding our schools is constantly being dug from one budget or another. How can this be a reasonable request in a community suffering like the rest of the nation from inflated costs, more taxes, etc.?”
Thomas is an alumni of Schoenbar and Ketchikan High School.
“I feel it is a waste of time, money, and a detriment to those of us raised here that want our alma mater left alone,” she concluded.
Thomas recalled wearing her Kayhi letterman jacket with other members of her graduating class at Fourth of July parades and feeling a sense of school pride. Why would we agree to give that up? She asked the dais.
If moved forward, the proposal to rename the schools would kick off a lengthy committee process to decide on the official names. At the borough meeting, the assembly voted to postpone further consideration to April in order to gather more information.
Get in touch with the author at jack@krbd.org.
CLARIFICATION: This story was updated to reflect that the proposal suggests renaming the physical building occupied by Ketchikan High School, also known as Kayhi, though not changing the name of Ketchikan High School itself.
