Days spent hunching in a library, identifying unmarked photos or rubbing his eyes, worn sore from looking at microfilm, cause Vic Kucera to question the decades and dollars he's spent transferring the ghost town of Alpha from memories to print.
But once Kucera, 60, tells stories of the night-long fiddle parties, masquerade balls, and debate societies he's witnessed in retrospect, it seems as if the reason has returned.
His grandmother, Mary Myer Johnson, would say to Kucera, "Give me the old days; we had so much fun then, because we didn't know there was anything else."
Kucera has found that the prairie life is a stepping stone to current society — one he feels obligated to preserve through writing a comprehensive history.
He is hoping to wrap up the book soon, but is still looking for Alpha photos taken prior to 1920.
"The great tragedy is there were many taken," Kucera said. "My heart will sag when I go into an antique store and see (unmarked) photos."
Hailing from the prairie
Alpha was located 19 miles southeast of Chehalis along Centralia-Alpha Road. Other names in the area were Shoestring, Tilton and Alpha Prairie. The life of the settlement lasted only about three generations, with a post office operating from June 1890 to July 1954, according to Karen Johnson, curator at the Lewis County Historical Museum in Chehalis.
"In this ordinary place, there exist the roots of literally hundreds, maybe thousands of descendants who live good, prosperous lives because of the hardships endured by their immigrant ancestors," Kucera said.
Kucera is such a descendant. He currently calls Ketchikan, Alaska, home, and spends months sailing with his wife on their sailboat, the Pacific Star.
Reviving names
The root of his project began about 30 years ago, when Grandmother Johnson frequently asked Kucera to drive her to the Alpha Cemetery for Memorial Day. Kucera would always promise flippantly around Christmas time, and regret his answer when the sunny weekend hit.
Sailing in Seattle sounded more amusing than decorating gravestones with false flowers. But Kucera would drive Grandma Johnson to the cemetery, and wait for time to pass as she recounted the lives under the headstones. Now, he would do anything to have one of those days back.
"My biggest regret was that I didn't ask more," Kucera said.
So, he started asking. He consulted librarians, historians, old newspapers, photos and Alpha old-timers to find a comprehensive history of the short-lived Lewis County community.
"He's a really serious researcher," Johnson said. "He leaves no stone unturned."
Local historian Margaret Shields has spent hundreds of hours with Kucera, verifying documents, and looking for articles and photos.
"I just believe we need more local histories written that are authentically researched," Shields said.
Kucera currently has 650 pages of his book finished. He hopes to wrap it up in time for the last Alpha residents left to read it.
"The day I turn the final copy into the museum, I will jump in the air and click my heels in ecstasy," Kucera said.
Connecting home
The biggest incentive for Kucera is what the preservation means for residents and descendants of Alpha.
"You can just hear them beam across the telephone," Kucera said. "There just aren't many people left who can talk about it."
Kucera has spoken to about 20 to 30 people of the third generation of Alpha, who are now in their late 80s and early 90s. Kucera brings a scanner to interviews so he can immediately scan the pictures for the book.
Kucera called one descendent, his age, to find if he had any of his grandparents' Alpha photos. The man had no idea his family used to live at Alpha. He began calling Kucera to find out more about his grandmother, who was a mail carrier.
"The fellow just bent my ear something fierce for several phone conversations," Kucera said.
Kucera has also become close with former Alpha residents, such as Chrissy Jones, 93, Chehalis.
Jones beams when she speaks of Kucera, "the nice young man," who has taken an interest in the two-mile walks to school and dances of her childhood. Kucera accompanied Jones to Alpha on a couple of occasions, where she introduced him to members of the community.
Jones still drives, and laughs when remembering how she vowed to never step foot in a car at age 6, because it scared her horses.
She remembers damming up creeks, squirting playmates with milk direct from the udder, and playing for hours in the woods.
"We felt sorry for the kids from town," Jones said. "They'd come and visit, and wouldn't know what to do. We had time to imagine things."
Jones once told Kucera he was lucky to have lived in two periods. She felt as if his research had brought him to the pioneer days.
"I do sometimes feel like I have 'been there,' " Kucera said. "Maybe a modest bit of time travel is my biggest payoff."
Julia Nicholls is a feature writer for The Chronicle. She may be reached at 807-8245, or by e-mail at jnicholls@chronline.com.
Photos sought
If you have pioneer photos of the Alpha Prairie, please contact Vic Kucera at pacstar@att.net
