An estimated 80 rapes are reported in Alaska for every 100,000 people. The extent of Alaska's problem with violence against women is both horrifying and clear: Alaska's per capita rate of reported rape is the highest in the country, according to 2012 FBI crime data. This is the second of five topics readers commissioned as part of the series. Readers prompted this quest when they voted for me to cover rape and violence against women in the United States as part of CNN's Change the List project, which seeks to bring attention and support to bottom-of-the-list places like Alaska. I spent more than two weeks in America's "Last Frontier" state in December trying to answer two questions: Why is Alaska the national epicenter for rape?Īnd, more importantly, what can be done to change that? The mother and daughter have consented to ongoing contact with him, allowing him to live next door, for a powerful and counterintuitive reason: Those unthinkable acts happened in her house, without her knowledge, she said.īut, amazingly, Ruth and Alice have opened their hearts again to Sheldon. Ruth told me her world nearly collapsed that day in 2003 when the police said her husband, over a course of years, had been raping and molesting Alice, one of her adopted daughters. It's been harder lately - since she learned what Sheldon was hiding. And she loves him now, she told me as we sat in her living room, wind chimes clanging outside on the porch. He shared her love for the outdoors, her passion for camping all summer, soaking in 24 hours of sunlight afforded by the severe tilt of the Earth up here. Ruth met Sheldon decades ago while ice fishing – was introduced by friends. A clothesline, maybe 30 feet long, connects the homes. In the shack lives Ruth's husband, Sheldon – love of her life, father to her many adopted children, a few of whom live with her next door. Its plywood walls are so leaky that socks and towels are stuffed in the holes. Next to Ruth's house is a shack: One room, wood stove, metal roof.
Snowmobile tracks in her driveway, fossilized by the cold, creak and pop under your feet like brittle Styrofoam.Īnd the wind: The constant shhhhh as it rattles the tundra. Stand outside Ruth's wooden home here in Alaska and you'll hear only an occasional sound: A plane buzzes overhead, a reminder that the only way in or out of this village at this time of year is by air. Follow him on Twitter, Facebook or Google+. Sutter is a columnist for CNN Opinion and head of CNN's Change the List project.