SITKA, ALASKA
Ridley was half Tlingit, half Tsimshian. His connection to his Native heritage was one of the most important parts of his life, says his family, but also one of the most private.
George Ridley is smiling in his portrait, which is propped up on the living room floor of his Marine Street home. Family members are also smiling, as they sit telling stories about Ridley, who died March 1 at the age of 78.
There haven’t been many tears in this room today, which is all right, says his widow, Pat, who laughs as she talks about a moment early in their relationship.
“I had a broken window in my house, so I bought the pane of glass to put in the next day,” she said. “And I put it in the passenger seat so it wouldn't be hurt. He said, 'My car won't start, would you mind giving me a ride home?' I said no. And he jumped in and sat on my pane of glass. It took us about 30 minutes to pick all the pieces of glass out of the car and him. And he said, 'I was trying so hard to impress you.'”
Well, he did. Pat and George Ridley were married for 36 years. George’s work with the Ketchikan Pulp Company, and later with the International Asbestos Union, meant a lot of travel for the couple. They were in New Mexico when they decided to return to Sitka to take care of his mother at the end of her life.
“And we were supposed to leave,” Pat Ridley said. “And that was almost 30 years ago. We're a little slow getting out of town. (laughs) This is where he got involved in his culture.”
Ridley was half Tlingit, half Tsimshian. His Tlingit name was Kichxóon. Pat says it was only in the last 20 years or so that George became involved in Native issues and life. He served on the Sitka Tribe of Alaska council since 2000, and was a member of the Alaska Native Brotherhood. He also was a representative to the Tongass Futures Roundtable.
But at the table was where Ridley left his politics. When he got home, he didn’t talk about what was going on with the Tribal Council, or the Futures Roundtable. As a result, Pat Ridley says the last few days have been full of discovery for his family.
“We've all heard stories we didn't know before, and from other people,” she said. “His cultural part of him was his private life, so to speak. He didn't bring it home and discuss it a lot. So we've been hearing it from all the people he's worked with through the years. It's really nice to know how many things he did and how respected he was that we were unaware of.”
His daughter, Sherri Breedlove, says he touched a lot of hearts. People approached her at the memorial service Sunday to tell her that her father helped them connect with their culture.
“He told us some things, but we never picked his brain about it,” Breedlove said. “But I'm sure had we, he would have shared that with us.”
Pat Ridley says one of the rare times her husband mixed his home life with his life as an elected official was recently, and then only because he felt he had to.
“He was in the critical care unit in the hospital, phoning (the Sitka Tribe of Alaska office) about things he had going and making sure somebody carried out his plans,” Pat Ridley said. “His daughter kept saying, 'Dad, you're in the hospital in critical care, quit phoning everybody.' But it was that important to him.”
Woody Widmark is chairman of the Sitka Tribe. He says while Ridley took his duties very seriously, he also had a sense of humor, especially when touchy issues came up.
“Being in Native politics, or politics, there’s some times you just have to amuse yourself or just laugh it off,” Widmark said. “He wouldn’t take the whole thing too seriously. Once at a meeting, or once at a function, he would just let it go, and just be George.”
Ridley’s death leaves a vacancy on the council. Widmark says it will be filled according to the Tribe’s constitution, which calls for someone to be appointed by the Tribal Council.
Pat Ridley says her husband’s passing was the result of a long but not always visible illness. His 20 years working with asbestos gave him asbestosis. Pat Ridley says a recent bout of pneumonia was too much.
“This was kind of sudden in one way, but happening for a lot of years and just not showing,” she said. “But he had a wonderful, good life. He was the type of guy who would put one foot in front of the other and do what he was going to do.”
Those feet were planning to take him and Pat to Ireland this year to retrace her heritage. She says she might still take that journey.
© Copyright 1970, Raven Radio Foundation Inc.