Susan
Butcher
She leaves loving
memories for all Alaskans to share
By Larry Persily
Anchorage Daily News- Opinion
Published: August 7, 2006
She was a force. That's what most Alaskans will remember about her.
Indomitable spirit and dazzling smile, a woman who could light up a room and
win a 1,100-mile race to Nome. She seemed a little bigger than life. That makes
sense, given that she helped to define a place and time in Alaska.
Susan Butcher did what she set out to do: win the Iditarod Trail Sled
Dog Race from Anchorage to Nome, not just once, but four times. She so
dominated the race in the late 1980s that the top male mushers joked they were
pulling for her to get pregnant so she wouldn't be able to race.
At times that looked like about the only way she'd lose. At her
Iditarod peak, she seemed like a force of nature. There was a sense of
inevitability about her winning, just as there had been for her rival Rick
Swenson when he ruled the race.
It may have looked easy, but it wasn't. The late Joe Redington, who
helped Susan Butcher early on in her Iditarod career and worked with her in the
fish processing business, marveled at her determination. That determination
drove day after day of hard work that built stellar dog teams, a legendary lead
dog in Granite, and a no-quit spirit that wasn't just attitude, but soul-deep.
She was strong and demanding -- most of all of herself -- with a champion's
focus that had little patience for distractions.
She wasn't all sweetness and light on the trail, for sure. But joy broke
through, her joy in the race and the mushers and the dogs and Alaska. This
formidable woman was at her best on the trail.
Success didn't happen all at once and she didn't achieve it alone. Her
husband, David Monson, helped build the racing team that she drove so well. And
her husband stood by her side and fought alongside her to her dying day.
Susan Butcher was blessed with the family she wanted. Daughters Tekla,
10, and Chisana, 5, spent as much time as possible with their mother over the
last eight months of her struggle with leukemia. She fought that battle with
some of the same qualities that helped her run the Iditarod -- intelligence,
drive, courage and humor. And tenderness -- she welcomed the care and love of
so many Alaskans beyond family and friends. Both she and her husband wrote more
than once of the strength they drew from e-mails and other messages.
She was inspiration to so many women that the mention seems almost
cliche. The messages of the widespread and lasting marks she made were amazing.
She changed so many lives, and so many gained from her strength.
Few are the women who could follow her trail. Few are the men. That's
part of the definition of any exceptional woman or man. She leaves her
magnificent story. She leaves her family, to whom Alaskans send their love and
prayers.
She leaves something else, too, for all of us. A gift of her life, how
she lived and how she died.
In hard times, Alaskans might remember some of Susan Butcher's fire to strengthen their spirits. She showed the way.