Part of a continuing series on Alaska history by local historian David Reamer. Have a question about Anchorage or Alaska history or an idea for a future article? Go to the form at the bottom of this story. Reamer is presenting a series of free history talks at Bear Tooth Theatrepub this fall. The first, to be held Sept. 14 at 11 a.m., is on Alaska representation in a century of movies.

James Earl Jones is gone, and he is not. I search my mind and the memories are so sharp, so present. A Darth Vader action figure stares at me as I write. “Don’t fail me again,” he suggests as my deadlines approach. Jones has been a part of me since about the time my consciousness began to endure past each moment. In one of my earliest memories, I swing a light tube at a screen, helping Luke fight the Dark Lord of the Sith. I still don’t know why my parents allowed a toddler to play with light tubes like a hardcore wrestler. And so, Jones’ life may have ceased, but the presence is forever, pain and comfort mingling in my mind.

[James Earl Jones, acclaimed actor and voice of Darth Vader, dies at 93]

Jones intersected with Alaska continually for decades. The presence. The humor (non-Vader roles). And the voice, unforgettably sonorous. Many of the theaters may be torn down or repurposed, but we remember. In Anchorage, “Dr. Strangelove” played at the 4th Avenue Theatre. “The Great White Hope” played at the Fireweed. “The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars and Motor Kings” played at the Polar. “Coming to America” played at the Valley River Cinemas in Eagle River. “Field of Dreams” played at the University 6. “The Lion King” played at the Totem. Yes, the Totem is still here. There’s a limit to demolished theaters, even in Anchorage.

And then there is “Star Wars.” It was a different world for movies in Alaska then. “Stars Wars” was released nationally on May 25, 1977. It didn’t make it to Anchorage until all the way on Aug. 3. It opened here at the Polar Twin, now the Polaris K-12 School. Oddly, the movie was paired with a Vincent Price-narrated pseudo-documentary, “The Devil’s Triangle.” Before the real feature, the crowded houses had to sit through more than 50 minutes of far-fetched drivel about the Bermuda Triangle. Before you feel too bad for Anchorage residents, know that the film didn’t open in Fairbanks for another two months, on Oct. 8 at the Goldstream.

Jones also made a few personal and professional visits to Alaska, including with his only child, Flynn. In his 1993 biography, “Voices and Silences,” Jones wrote, “I have always thought it quite wonderful and necessary to keep connected to nature, to a place in the country landscape where one can rest and listen. Flynn and I share a love of the woods. We collect stamps and baseball cards. We travel together whenever we can as a family, but we try not to disrupt Flynn’s school schedule.”

His humor came through when talking about Alaska. “We have been to Italy recently, and to Alaska, where Flynn and I drank glacier water and then pissed off the edge of the glacier. I believe my son shares with me this visceral love for nature. Away from civilization and even from Ceci, whom we both adore beyond words, we can take sleeping bags out to the woods, eat what we want, pee outdoors, sleep under the stars.” Ceci is Cecilia Hart (1948-2016), Jones’ second wife, who he met on the set of the 1979-1980 CBS police drama “Paris.”

In the spring of 1990, Jones spent a few days in Juneau. The primary purpose was to record some narration for a Sea World film about Shamu, the killer whale. They had installed a large video screen to play footage of natural habitats during animal performances. His secondary purpose in Alaska was to get in some fishing. On his return home, he declared, “I didn’t catch anything except a heart full of love for this country.”

More people know that baritone voice than his face, understandably so. Still, it represents a voice-acting career that almost never happened. As a child, he stuttered and for years was nearly mute to avoid any embarrassment. The voice didn’t just happen. He practiced and honed it like any other craft. He took speech lessons periodically for decades, well into his most famous period.

Moreover, he was humble about it, often denying that his voice was anything special. In a 1990 interview with the Anchorage Daily News, he said, “Is it really that famous? I suppose for young people of a certain generation it is. I dunno.”

He provided his signature narration for everything from the Olympics to Sprint cellphone service, from CNN (“This … is CNN”) to Verizon. In 1990, he even did the voice-over for a Daily News commercial. That bit of local treasure is, unfortunately, lost media at the moment. If anyone has it, please get in touch with me as soon as possible.

That year, 1990, was a big one for Jones and Alaska. On Oct. 20, he performed with the Anchorage Symphony. He was the narrator for a performance of Aaron Copland’s “Lincoln Portrait,” a series of Lincoln speeches and observations set to music. Conductor Stephen Stein told the Anchorage Times, “In envisioning this performance, it was obvious from the beginning that James Earl Jones had the broad appeal, deep voice and statuesque presence to make this a truly extraordinary concert.”

In a dark suit and red tie, he took the stage to the applause of a full house. Orators as diverse as Margaret Thatcher and Barack Obama have narrated “Lincoln Portrait,” but none could say they did it better, and in Anchorage even. The orchestral work was written during World War II and meant as a triumphant experience, a giver of hope during a dark war. In power, presence, and performance, Jones met the challenge.

He is gone, but I don’t forget. Some of my deadlines will be soon be met. Then, my Vader figure will tell me to meet new expectations, altering a deal. “Pray I don’t alter it any further.” Yet, for some reason, I smile.

• • •

Key sources:

Blucher, Jay. “Symphony Calls on a Big Voice.” Anchorage Daily News, G-1, G-8.

Foley, John. “James Earl Jones.” Anchorage Times, October 14, 1990, G-1, G-4.

Jones, James Earl, and Penelope Niven. James Earl Jones: Voices and Silences. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1993.