Sweet business success — Youth learn selling skills in Lemonade Day

Photos by Jenny Neyman, Redoubt Reporter. Nala Johnson serves a customer at her Lemonade Day stand at Fred Meyer on Saturday.

By Jenny Neyman

Redoubt Reporter

This isn’t your average lemonade. No grainy, oversweetened, unnatural-colored powder, mostly diluted in tepid tap water. More like hand-squeezed, ice-chilled, fresh-ingredient culinary masterpieces worthy of Le Cordon Bleu — or pink, when swirled with muddled strawberries, or purple when marbled with a streak of grape flavoring.

There was sugar-free, for a more health-conscious option, blended with crushed ice for a more festive presentation, available in several sizes and with a diverse menu of sweet treats also available from the participants of Lemonade Day, with stands set up in front of businesses across the central Kenai Peninsula on Saturday.

As if the quality and variety weren’t enough to move pints of product, the pint-sized purveyors had additional sales strategies up their little sleeves — one stand had a big painted sign on the highway advertising its acceptance of credit cards; another “sold” lemonade for a donation, often getting more cash than if they’d listed a price of a dollar or two; and most had options for upselling, like an extra 50 cents for flavoring, or another buck for a drink to be blended with crushed ice.

Anya, right, and Truly Hondel attend to a customer at their stand outside Sweeney’s.

The purveyors of Anya and Truly’s Lemon A-Peel stand in front of Sweeney’s had perhaps the most sure-fire sales strategy of all — “I try to always smile and wave,” said 10-year-old Anya Hondel.

Few were the passers-by to resist that approach, as she and her sister, 4-year-old Truly, enthusiastically grinned and greeted customers in matching lemon aprons, with their lemonade-colored hair held back by yellow-and-white hats knitted by their grandmother, Terri Burdick.

Their menu included homestyle lemonade, strawberry-flavored lemonade, sugar-free lemonade and lemon cookies, and their

Anya said her strategy to business at her Lemon A-Peel stand was to keep on smiling.

yellow- and green-striped stand was equipped with a tip jar to capitalize on any feelings of generosity in their customers. A family at their school, Grace Lutheran, had participated in Lemonade Day last year, so this year the Hondel girls decided to give it a try.

As of noon Saturday the novelty was still fueling their venture. Even 4-year-old Truly wasn’t dampened by the drizzly weather, as she excitedly pointed out her favorite parts of the operation — “My princess chair!” she said of her Disney-themed assigned seat, and, “This is where we keep all the money!” of the secured cash box.

Anya said she was enjoying meeting all the new people, and that even the work part of the job wasn’t getting her down.

“I like making the lemonade. With the sugar we made a syrup, and then we poured lemon juice in it, and it’s pretty fun,” she said.

Good lessons can come the hard way

By Jenny Neyman

Redoubt Reporter

For many kids on the Kenai Peninsula on Saturday — and across the state and the rest of the nation — their first work experience came in setting up and operating their own minibusiness as part of Lemonade Day.

For me, commerce at age 6 meant hunting for slugs with a salt shaker. This might not make sense to anyone who hasn’t attempted to maintain a garden in a rain forest, but those sodium-sensitive globs of congealed snot can swiss cheese a rhubarb leaf in a day if left to their slow-moving digestive devastation. The gig paid 5 cents per dissolved slug, via my mom. Profits were invested in a diverse portfolio of frozen stock — cherry Otter Pops, orange Push-Up Pops and, if business was really booming, chocolate-vanilla swirl Pudding Pops.

I once, in second grade, got paid a dollar at recess to give a classmate lessons in being nice. It entailed me following the girl around and telling her not to punch people. Or at least help them up when she didn’t heed my first suggestion.

In third grade, I decided I wanted to be a roller-skating waitress when I grew up. I have no idea why. I couldn’t skate well with my hands free, much less encumbered by a tray of burgers and malts. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know what a malt was. And a brief stint waitressing when I was 13 proved I had no aptitude for the food service part, either.

At around 10 years old, I had a standing contract with a neighbor to find and return their family cat when it heard the call of the wild and headed for the hills — in this case, the nearby lumber mill yard — as it did every couple months.

By age 12, I and many other kids in our Southeast Alaska town spent our summers pickaxing garnets from slabs of mica schist, shining them up and hawking them to tourists at the ferry and cruise ship docks. (I realize, in retrospect, that this sounds like child labor, but given what we made it was not exploitive. Let’s just say we were livin’ the Pudding Pop life.)

I’ve mowed lawns, stained decks, sat kids, cleared brush, dug ditches, run theatrical lighting, lugged sound equipment and been a concert bouncer. No military service, but food service, customer service and lip service (aka, public relations).

Most were done of some sort of necessity — bills to pay, time to fill, favors to return. None I would consider to be integral to what has become my “career” — whatever that means in this day and age of people shifting professions an average of three to seven times. Certainly none I would list on a professional resume.

A few I viscerally hated, some I tolerated and even of the ones I enjoyed, none are anything I’d want to do again as a means of support. If I had to go back to one it’d be slug hunting, if it weren’t for the effect of recession on the value of a nickel. Alas, another victim of a slowing economy.

There were some miserable moments — thorny salmonberry bushes raking sunburn blisters, meeting a 4 a.m. ferry in the pouring rain hoping at least one of the passengers briefly disembarking to walk their dogs would have enough money and sympathy to buy something — please-oh-please anything! — or conferencing with the cook over an order for eggs Benedict because neither of us knew what the yellowish glop on top was supposed to be (we went with a mixture of canned nacho cheese, mayo and Thousand Island dressing and got back, as one would imagine, an untouched plate and no tip.)

But even though I don’t care to do them now, I wouldn’t undo any of those experiences. Even the worst jobs teach you what you don’t want to do, and that’s a lesson not to be undervalued.

My most random, dead-end or supposedly irrelevant job experiences have been my most meaningful. You learn a lot more about how to work doing something you dislike than something you love. Growth, after all, doesn’t come from comfort, nor does motivation from complacency.

Taking (live)stock — Suppliers manage inventory of farm animals

Photos courtesy of Sarah Donchi, Kenai Feed. Ben Miller holds a pig for Dr. Jerry Nybakken to examine at Kenai Feed last week.

By Joseph Robertia

Redoubt Reporter

There’s something about the smell of eggs cooking in a skillet first thing in the morning, and if recent sales of chicks are any indication, there are a growing number of people who prefer the taste of farm-fresh eggs versus store-bought.

“We got in 700 today alone, and over the course of the season we’ll go through around 8,000 from March to June,” said Dianna Taplin, owner of Cad-Re Feed and Grandma’s Cupboard in Soldotna.

It’s not just about taste preferences, though. According to Taplin, there are many reasons the chicken-raising business is starting to boom. For some it’s about getting a meat product free of hormones, antibiotics and chemicals. For others it’s part of teaching their kids about raising fowl, and for still others it’s about being prepared for any number of situations that could cause a disruption to the local grocery store food supply.

“It’s really exploded the last five years. We saw a slight dip a few years ago when Soldotna changed its zoning laws, but otherwise it’s been steadily growing. I think when people saw the economy tanking and us living so far north, it really kicked people wanting to become self-sufficient into overdrive,” she said.

There are two divisions of chicken — meat chickens, which are bought to be raised and butchered for food, and laying chickens, which are bought to be raised to produce eggs.

“We have two varieties of meat chickens and we carry about 20 breeds of layers because everyone has their favorite. The top is the Rhode Island Red — that’s the biggest seller each year. We also carry a few varieties of ornamentals and rare-breed chickens for those who just want something cute, or to eat bugs or stir up the garden,” Taplin said.

So many chicks in the store — requiring scratch, water, warmth under a heat lamp and almost constant cleaning — requires a lot of planning and preparation.

“I have three chicken managers, I’ve designed a program to keep up with the customers and the hatcheries, and I keep at least eight books of preorders,” Taplin said.

Transportation of the chicks from the farms to the store is the most nerve-racking aspect. The baby birds can’t survive long without food and warmth, so even an interruption as brief as a plane being delayed in Anchorage for a day can have disastrous results.

“Getting them here safely is the hardest part, and it’s been better since the post office made changes to get them here in two days. Now the hard part is when 700 to 800 come in, and there are still others here that haven’t been picked up,” she said.

Bishop’s Attic secures new home — Move to address theft from thrift shop

Photo by Joseph Robertia, Redoubt Reporter. Bishop’s Attic, currently located on the Kenai Spur Highway in Soldotna, is moving this week to the old Polaris dealership on Binkley Street and Wilson Lane.

By Joseph Robertia

Redoubt Reporter

It’s hard to imagine someone stealing from those who help the less fortunate, but that is exactly what has been happening at Bishop’s Attic thrift store on the Kenai Spur Highway in Soldotna, prompting an increase in numerous security measures and a change of store location next month.

“Some people don’t consider it stealing, they consider it Dumpster diving, but it is stealing — from us and the people we could help,” said store manager LeeAnn Barenz.

Dumpster diving is the practice of sifting through commercial or residential waste to find discarded items that are still useful. However, the items dropped off at the thrift store have been donated, not thrown away.

“It’s stealing from our employees’ salaries and stealing from the charities we give to,” Barenz said.

Bishop’s Attic, run under the local Catholic Church, uses funds generated from sales in the store to financially support several local organizations, such as the Kenai Peninsula Food Bank, ABC Crisis Pregnancy Center, and Love INC. The store also provides support for educational scholarships and other community service projects as determined by its board of directors.

Nearly all of these funds are earned through the sales of their donated items, which is what made the pilfering as distasteful as it was illegal, according to Barenz.

“People were coming at night and taking a lot of the good stuff, breaking other things they didn’t steal in the process, or leaving behind ripped-open bags of clothes,” she said, referring to the area at the rear of the store where a small cabin was left open for people to drop off items after business hours.

It was a lack of items accumulating that first drew the staff’s attention to a possible problem. Apparently, according to Barenz, the visits by those taking, rather than leaving, items were not few and far between.

“It seemed like about a month went by and we just weren’t getting as much as usual,” she said.

Our Best Friends closing up shop

Photo by Joseph Robertia, Redoubt Reporter. After being open for 21 years, Our Best Friends pet store, on Kalifornsky Beach Road, will soon be closing its doors, but the dog wash next door will remain open, although the owners said its future is not certain.

By Joseph Robertia

Redoubt Reporter

When he was a kid, Jody Hoskins became enamored with animals starting with a pair of pet cockatiels. His interest took flight all the way into adulthood.

His affinity for animals and caring for them grew until it was not longer just something he wanted to pursue as a pastime. He wanted it to be full time, to pay for itself and maybe even then some. With seed money he had saved up, he looked around the central Kenai Peninsula until he found a place he could afford and opened Our Best Friends pet shop.

“That was back in ’92, across the street where the small engine repair business is now. It was only a 600-square-foot place, and even though it was mostly just birds and fish at the start, the place was packed. If someone came in a wheelchair, I had to wait on them at the front door,” Hoskins said.

Over the years, the business grew steadily. In 1994 it relocated across Kalifornsky Beach Road to its current location, but even there the business grew to where the building was expanded. It finally reached the point where Hoskins had a new building built right next door, and in 2006 he turned the previous pet shop building into a self pet-wash business.

However, while all of this seemed liked a boon at the time, it may be the very thing that has now caused a bust, as Our Best Friends is preparing to close.

Jody Hoskins, the pet store owner, said he made the difficult decision to close his shop, which has been open for two decades now.

“I think my mistake might have been growing my business too big. It required so many employees, working so many hours to take care of all the animals properly. I thought with enough inventory I could survive anything, but maybe I should have had a little less and paid more to my mortgage and bills,” he said.

And there were a lot of animals. It is one of the things that separated his store from other small pet shops. Not only did Hoskins stock more than just dog and cat supplies, he also carried birds, reptiles, amphibians, rodents and insects.

’Tuf luck — XTRATUF outsourcing sparks cry over quality of boots

By Joseph Robertia

Photo by Joseph Robertia, Redoubt Reporter. Alaskans have suffered through a decrease in quality in XTRATUF boots following manufacturing being shifted to China, but representatives say the boots are back up to snuff and tough as ever.

Redoubt Reporter

In Florida, they wear flip-flops. In New York, it’s Prada. In Alaska, XTRATUF boots reign as the supreme footwear of the masses.

Dog mushers working on glaciers wear the insulated versions to keep their feet warm. Oil field workers all the way to the North Slope favor their ruggedness. From fishermen to foresters, cannery workers to clam diggers, under rain suits or wedding attire, the ubiquitous, brown-and-cream-colored boots are part of standard Alaska attire.

“I have three pairs that I’ve had for two years, and two of the pairs were hand-me-downs that I got from someone who’d had them for two years themselves, and they’re still holding together,” said Austin Petty, of Soldotna.

Petty wears XTRATUFs nearly every day year-round, whether at work or at play. The boots are his four-season footwear.

“I work at a cannery and I wear them all day there. They’re warm, comfortable and you can walk on slime-covered docks and even on fish and not slip. Outside of work I’ll wear them for just about everything, too. I’ve hunted black bear in them and just this week went ice fishing in them,” he said.

Despite the brand’s devoted following in Alaska, the reliability of XTRATUFs came into question earlier this year after the production of the boots switched from being made in the U.S. to being manufactured in China. Honeywell — XTRATUF’s manufacturer and representative in the U.S. — assured vendors and consumers alike that the boots would be built the same and there would be no changes to any components. But common consensus has persisted that the boots just aren’t as tough anymore.

The rubber of the Chinese-made boots is said to be considerably slimmer on the calf, and that the rubber of the Illinois-made boots seemed oilier than its substitute. Most concerning is reports that the foreign-made boots begin to separate at the heel within weeks instead of years.

“I have some and from personal experience they’re not as durable as they used to be,” said Toby Burke, a wildlife technician at the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge, who spends a good portion of his day wearing XTRATUFs in the field.

Homegrown revolution — Gardeners expand to tackle Alaska’s food insecurity

By Jenny Neyman

Photos by Jenny Neyman, Redoubt Reporter. Farmers markets are sprouting up all over Alaska these days, yet another sign of a growing agricultural culture.

Redoubt Reporter

Here’s something to chew on with your breakfast: The eggs for that omelet you’re eating — or the milk in your cereal, the meat in your sausage, the honey in your tea, the jam on your toast — probably wasn’t produced in Alaska. But half a century ago, it probably was.

The factors contributing to this fact are many, and about as complicated as making a soufflé in an Easy-Bake Oven with no electricity at the 17,200-foot camp on Denali’s west buttress.

Convenience, cost, and consumer demand related to those, are big parts of the equation. It’s also a product of changes in globalization, infrastructure, transportation, supply chains, the increase in corporations and conglomerations vs. privately owned businesses, marketing strategies, subsidies, technologies and growing conditions. It doesn’t break down into an easy recipe, with one part of this to two parts of that, or three tablespoons of this whisked into four cups of that.

The result, however, is quantifiable: In 1955, 55 percent of the food consumed in Alaska was produced in Alaska. Today, a mere 5 percent of the food Alaskans eat is produced in Alaska.

And that, say experts concerned with the health, stability and economy of Alaska, is as bitter a problem as mistaking salt for sugar.

“In 1955 we were pretty self-sufficient, but from 1955 to 2010, we have gone from being self-reliant and independent to completely vulnerable, completely dependent on the next plane,” said Danny Consenstein, director of the Alaska Farm Service Agency of the United States Department of Agriculture.

Consenstein points to three justifications for needing a better local foods system in Alaska:

1. Economics.

“Alaskans spend $2 billion a year on food. Ninety-five percent of that is leaving the state. Imagine if just 10 percent more stayed here — if we went from 5 to 15 percent. That 10 percent is like $200 million dollars that would be bouncing around local communities,” he said. “So the economic potential, I think, is big for Alaska. Why are we sending all of our dollars to Mexico or California when we could be keeping it right here?”

2. Health.

“We clearly have health problems in Alaska — obesity, diabetes, especially in the Bush. It’s got to be connected to the food that we’re eating. If we can provide healthier, fresh, nutritious, local food, it’s got to be good for Alaska,” he said.

3. Security and the ability to be more self-reliant in an emergency. Advances in transportation are part of the reason why Alaska moved more to importing food than producing its own, because it became faster and cheaper to bridge the gap between Alaska and beyond. But that gap still exists, both between the state and the main food-producing regions of the world, as well as within Alaska, with rural communities separated from main distribution hubs. An earthquake, fire, flood, avalanche, volcanic eruption or a number of other uncontrollable events could disrupt supply chains, with grocery stores only stocking enough to feed residents for a few days to, maybe, a week.

“How can Alaska be more prepared for an emergency? It’s a lot more than just stockpiling. It’s strategies like helping farmers grow more food. And maybe that’s a longer-term strategy. It won’t help us tomorrow, but in 10 years from now if we can get from 5 to 15 percent, we will be more secure, more protected against supply disruptions,” Consenstein said.

Getting there will take a homegrown revolution, the seeds of which have already been planted and the budding shoots of which can have taken root on the Kenai Peninsula.

Threading opportunities — Bare Threads stitches together new life after fire

By Joseph Robertia

Photos courtesy of Shonda Powell. Shonda Powell owns Bare Threads in Nikiski.

Redoubt Reporter

While there are many businesses on the central Kenai Peninsula that have come and gone, one small sewing shop has threaded its way to success over the years, and not dwindling industry, a sluggish economy or even a fire can snag it into closing.

“We’ve been in business since ’91. I started when my son was 1 year old. I needed a source of income, but wanted to be with my kids and do something I enjoyed,” said Shonda Powell, owner of Bare Threads and Laundromat at Mile 20 of the Kenai Spur Highway in Nikiski.

From a humble beginning teaching children to sew fleece in a small mall stall, Powell’s shop has grown and moved over the years, and with the addition of the Laundromat services, the business now encompasses 4,000 square feet and caters to the general public as well as servicing several of the largest employers in this area.

“I think the keys to my success are being careful, and doing a little bit of everything,” she said. “We do hemming, zippers and just helping people finish sewing projects they’ve started but can’t get done,” as well as seasonal stuff, like prom and wedding dresses and upholstery work in summer.

Being a Jill of all trades has allowed Powell to focus her efforts on whatever the demand was at the time.

“As one part of the business got slow, I would start on something

Helen Clark works on a sewing project at Bare Threads.

different,” she said.

Gas line points to low bills — Anchor Point savings spurs renewed effort for natural gas extension

By Naomi Klouda

Photo courtesy of Homer Tribune. Jesse Clutts, owner of the Anchor River Inn, has been enjoying a reduction in bills since switching to natural gas from propane.

Homer Tribune

At the Anchor River Inn, the grills in the kitchen used to be hooked up to propane, an expense that made every pot of soup and hamburgers cost that much more.

At the end of November, owner Jesse Clutts shut down the restaurant.

“We shut down for that week, then we were able to go in and change out to new equipment. Using propane in the kitchen was our major expense,” Clutts said.

December’s bill brought Clutts the equivalent of a Christmas gift. From paying $2,000 a month for propane, his bill went down to $500 a month with natural gas.

“It was exactly as they said it would be; we dropped our costs in one month,” he said.

Family business, easy as pie — Bub’s Pizza endeavor topped by father-son team

By Joseph Robertia

Photos by Joseph Robertia, Redoubt Reporter. Ryan Mercier, general manager of Bub’s Pizza, in Soldotna, pulls a fresh pizza from the oven. Ryan and his father, Bub Mercier, run the pizzeria together.

Redoubt Reporter

If Bub Mercier were to accidentally nick himself while slicing and dicing his mountains of veggie prep work, it is quite possible he would bleed marinara sauce. That’s how deep the love of making pizza runs through his veins, and it is a trait he has passed on to his son, Ryan, 24, who has worked for and with his dad many times over the years, including the last six months since opening their newest restaurant, Bub’s Pizza in Soldotna.

“I haven’t had a slow day since the doors opened,” Bub said.

This newest eatery isn’t his first time serving up hot slices. Bub comes from a line of Italian-themed restaurateurs.

“My folks had a place in Anchorage and I worked there as a kid, and when I turned 21 I opened my first place up there called Big Al’s Alaskan Pizza Company, which I owned for four years before selling it,” he said.

Since opening that first restaurant in 1979, Bub has been busy. He has six children, each working with him at various establishments he owned or worked at over the years, including the other Bub’s Pizza, in Sterling, which he owned from 1993-98, before the establishment was sold and its name was changed to the current Magpie’s Pizzeria. Bub worked as a bakery manager at Fred Meyer for a lengthy stint, but when his youngest child finally graduated, he decided to return to being a restaurateur.

“I returned to doing what I love,” he said.

Starvin’ Marvin’s opens pizza factory

By Naomi Klouda

Photo by Naomi Klouda, Homer Tribune. Starvin' Marvin's Pizza owner Larry Albertson, and his granddaughter, Crystal Harrington, show off their new pizza factory at the former site of Pudgey's Store. This is the first USDA certified pizza wholesale company in Alaska.

Homer Tribune

The only pizza factory in the state of Alaska opened quietly on East End Road recently when the owner of Starvin’ Marvin’s Pizza became the first in state history to win U.S. Department of Agriculture approval.

Larry Albertson, who answers to the name of Marvin, even though it’s not his real name, spent the past five years gaining USDA certification. It wasn’t easy, and at least twice he grew so frustrated he almost quit, but now he has the distinction of being the only pizza vendor who can wholesale pizzas to grocery stores and grocer chains.

“They’re very strict, but I can see why they do it. It was worth it because now I could sell pizzas anywhere in the U.S.,” Albertson said.

On Friday, his crew of four made and boxed 200 pizzas destined for customers at Three Bears Grocery and Country Foods in Kenai, Save U More in Soldotna and Kachemak Wholesale in Homer. Called Starvin’ Marvin’s Pizza Factory, Albertson gutted the former Pudgies Store and rebuilt it inside. Now he sells pizza for local orders in the front while using the back for his factory.

He also supplies space for the USDA inspector who moved to Homer specifically to fill a requirement at the pizza factory. Randy Cooper came from Idaho.

“I was told by the previous USDA inspector who came here that they had a guy in Idaho who had been wanting to relocate to Alaska. So now he’s here and he’s a great guy,” Albertson said.

Albertson supplied Cooper with a desk, a filing cabinet and phone in the same building, as required by the USDA.

“He needs to be there whenever we are making pizza as a factory. My workers wear hairnets and special covering on their clothes. My kitchen is all stainless steel. It’s shiny. You can eat off the floor in my kitchen it’s so clean,” Albertson said.

The USDA requires a whole list of activities in order to be in compliance. The kitchen has to be sanitized each day upon closing. Then it needs to be sanitized again in the morning before food operations commence. Freezers must be kept at a certain temperature. Foods are checked for a variety of conditions. In order to achieve the USDA certification, Albertson had to pass eight tests, achieving a passing score of 80 or above.

“I was told from the start that it would take a long time to get licensed. They tell you people get disinterested and quit. It takes a lot of money. You have to fill out a lot of paperwork and go through a lot of bureaucracy and a lot of frustration,” Albertson said. “But if you keep plugging along, you get it done.”

A few times when Albertson was about to give the whole thing up, his granddaughter, Crystal Harrington, said, “Grandpa, you can do it. You can do it.”

Wall Street to Kenai’s streets — Local demonstrators join ‘Occupy’ movement

By Jenny Neyman

Photos by Jenny Neyman, Redoubt Reporter. Demonstrators stage an Occupy Kenai and Soldotna rally at the Bridge Access-Kenai Spur Highway intersection in Kenai on Saturday.

Redoubt Reporter

It was a small but heartfelt group standing at the Bridge Access-Kenai Spur Highway intersection Saturday afternoon, joining their waving hands and homemade signs to the larger Occupy Wall Street movement protesting financial greed and corruption.

They were bundled against the 40-degree temperature and 12-mile-per-hour wind blustering in off Cook Inlet. Along with the assortment of hats, gloves, Carhartt overalls and knitted scarves, the demonstrators had plenty of frustration and determination to burn.

“We’re trying to get people educated on what’s going on,” said Joy Falls, of Kenai, a member of the Occupy Kenai and Soldotna organization that’s formed to organize local demonstrations. As of Saturday, the group had had representatives out waving signs at the intersection for four days.

Their purpose is to raise awareness of issues they’d like to see changed in the country, specifically to reverse court decisions that have led to an expansion of corporate power.

“Our mission is to rescind corporate personhood and quit having the politicians influenced by corporations’ lobbying,” Falls said.

Frustrations have mounted over the years — court rulings allowing corporations to contribute unlimited amounts of money directly to political campaigns, the U.S. government bailout of several financial and corporate institutions, followed by reports of lavish corporate profits and CEO bonuses. The central Kenai Peninsula group had been following news reports of the Occupy Wall Street movement spreading across the country and decided it was time that members of the central peninsula community took as a stand, as well.

“The bailouts. We expected something from those bailouts, we didn’t just expect the CEOs to get a bonus. We didn’t have anything to do about it,” Falls said.

“How could you possibly think this is the way they would do it — just take our money more and more and more and give us nothing,” said Debbie McKay, of Nikiski. “I incorrectly assumed they were going to fix the system. That’s why people were spending all this money (tax dollars funding the bailouts). That’s why we haven’t been on the street earlier.”

It’s at the point where waving signs on street corners seems like a more productive way of making their feelings known than hoping elected officials do something on their own, they said.

“It just seems like politicians only represent the top 1 percent of wage earners in the country. So that means the 99 percent, we don’t have representation, and that affects every aspect of our life — our clean air, or lack thereof,” McKay said.

“The food that we buy, the water we drink,” Falls added.