Introduction by Wendy Wesser

My great-grandfather, Gerrit ‘Heinie’ Snider, arrived in the Yukon Territory in May of 1912 planning to begin his exploration for gold. When he first arrived in Dawson City he lacked the resources he needed to head out to the gold fields right away, so he turned to skills he learned on the high seas and became a steward aboard the Hannah, a sternwheeler going up and down the Yukon River. He heard countless stories from other gold seekers on the Hannah and at the many roadhouses he visited in the Yukon Territory. The story below is one of many he shared in his book, So Was Alaska.

Any man who has lived in the Yukon Territory will tell you there was and is great respect for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Let some crime be committed, and before you could say “flap-jack Robinson” there was one or more Red Coats at the scene of the crime. The scarlet jackets of the Mounted Police were a symbol of law to be respected.

There lived on the mouth of Thistle Creek, a creek that empties itself into the Yukon, a couple named Saulzman who ran a roadhouse with the help of their only daughter.

Saulzman’s roadhouse was built out of peeled logs and was a two-story affair. Dining room and kitchen were downstairs with sleeping rooms upstairs. The roadhouse was also used somewhat like a post office. Prospectors received and sent their mail by Saulzman’s to Dawson.

Once, when old Saulzman was on his way with the mail, it was reported that a dangerous criminal had broken jail and was heading down the Yukon River. Coming to Thistle Creek, the criminal entered the roadhouse. Mrs. Saulzman was upstairs and, while she did not know the man was dangerous and armed, from the tone of his voice when he was talking to her daughter, she was suspicious of him. 

It so happened that, a week or so before, a mounted policeman, who had stayed overnight, had left his red coat. An idea entered Mrs. Saulzman’s head.

She hung the red coat over her arm and went down stairs.

“Howdy,” she said to the fellow. Then walking over to her daughter, she said, “Officer Flannigan wants you to mend his pocket, and do it right away—he wants to leave soon.”

One look at the red coat was enough for the escaped prisoner. He did a quick about face, opened the door and was gone in a hurry. Sometimes we don’t give the women enough credit for being smart.