The Raconteur’s Bench

There is a place just outside Haines where the views stop you in your tracks. Picture Point. 

The name fits. It’s where sheer mountains meet ocean water in one of those storybook Alaskan moments, framed perfectly by the Creator’s hand. 

If you live here or have visited, you know! If you have seen some of my photos, you have an idea. :)

I bring guests to Picture Point often during guided tours. Cameras come out. Questions are asked. Information is given. It was yesterday during a tour when a guest pointed something out to me. She looked at one of the memorial benches and asked, “What’s a raconteur?”

I blinked. “What was that?”

She repeated the word and pointed: “It’s written on the bench.”

For the first time, I really looked at the word. I had walked past it a hundred times but never truly read it. Maybe I didn’t recognize it the first time I read it and subconsciously skipped over it, something I sometimes do with unfamiliar words when reading. But this time, thanks to her question, I looked closer:

"Haines is the best place on earth" - David Simmons, world traveler and raconteur, established home in Haines 2017–2020.

I had seen and committed to memory most of that inscription; especially the part that reads: "Haines is the best place on earth."

I grabbed my phone and looked up the word: "a person who tells anecdotes in a skillful and amusing way," I said.

Apparently David was known for telling stories, really good ones. Someone who could make you laugh, lean in, and feel like part of something. 

These benches, and the table that sits between them, are dedicated to David Simmons and Janae Larson, two bright lights in our community whose lives were tragically lost in a December 2020 landslide. They were young. They were loved. And they are still loved.

I did not know David or Janae personally, and yet I have found myself saying their names and honoring their memory several times a week for the past two months. Just today, I found photographs of them online, and it really drove home how young they were, and how much life they had ahead of them.

From what I have been reading online, David could light up a room and make you feel like you were the most special person on earth; like you had been life-long friends. Janae was raised in Haines and had a gentle, joyful spirit that drew people in. She loved her job as a kindergarten teacher. Together, they

made an impact that still ripples through Haines. The benches invite us to honor their memory.

Janae’s bench bears the inscription: 'Don’t stop Believin' - Forever Classmates 2016 Matthew, Zane, Jenae,’ 

I recently learned that the bench not only honors Jenae, but also honors lifelong friendships with Matthew and Zane, two fellow Haines residents and fellow classmates who tragically lost their lives in a separate avalanche accident the year before.

David's bench and the table are crafted from yellow cedar, and both were built by the local high school woodshop. I am not positive of the wood for Janae's bench. But these benches are not just places to sit. They are quiet invitations, to pause, to remember, to reflect. The table, a place for gathering, maybe even telling a few stories of your own. 

The whole scene at Picture Point faces the avalanche scar. It is directly across the harbor, a silent reminder of the tragedy that touched this community. Yet each bench turns away from the scar. David’s bench faces toward town, and Janae’s looks out over Lynn Canal. I believe it was a quiet choice to remember those lost while still looking toward life and the beauty beyond the hardship. 

Next time you are at Picture Point, take a seat on those benches, soak in the view where mountains meet the ocean, and remember David, Janae, Matthew, and Zane. They were a gift to this community, one of those bright lights you cannot forget. 

Today is the 4th of July, a day when we celebrate freedom, community, and the bonds that hold us together. Their memory invites us not just to remember, but to appreciate the preciousness of time. 

In reflecting on this new word that has been added to my vocabulary, I cannot help but think of Jesus. 

Was He not the ultimate raconteur? 

Jesus’ stories invited people in with parables that sparked laughter, reflection, and connection. He used the power of story to make people feel seen, understood, and loved. His words still bring comfort and hope. Jesus reminds me that even in the hardest moments, I am never alone.

May we carry that same spirit; to listen, to share, and to love deeply.

“Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.” Proverbs 16:24

by Jeanette Stark - Friday, July 4, 2025