Leonard’s Look

Leonard’s Look

Cold Calling

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Mike Leonard
Aug 07, 2026
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For a time, I was sitting on top of the world.

And then I started shivering.

It was July of 1998, and at the urging of NBC producer/friend Amy Cummings, I had agreed to leave the comfort of my suburban Chicago home to sample a couple of summer days in Barrow, Alaska, the northernmost community on the North American continent.

(Barrow has since changed its name back to the original Utqiagvik, - pronounced OOT-kee-AHG-vik - which roughly translates to “a place for gathering roots.” Given that the community was known as Barrow at the time of my story, I will continue to use that name in this essay.)

The Alaskan city has roughly 5,000 residents and is only reachable by plane since there are no passable roads through the arctic tundra. July is typically the warmest month of year, if you consider temperatures in the high 30’s and low 40’s as warm. Also, from May 10th until August 2nd, the sun never sets.

One night, I was awakened by the sound of young children playing in the streets at 3:00AM. In the winter, the AVERAGE low temperature hovers around minus 20 but can dip down to minus 40 with continual darkness from mid-November to mid-January.

And there are polar bears.

And no trees or grass.

And no paved roads.

Many of the residents hunt for seals, whales, walrus, caribou, and other such creatures - a less costly food source since everything else has to be flown in, resulting in sky high prices. My son Matt, who filmed the story, made a funny observation by acting out an imaginary scene from The Price is Right - with a Barrow resident as one of the contestants.

Host Bob Barker: “Contestants, how much does a Snicker’s Bar cost?” (Sound of buzzer) “Yes, Ernie from Barrow, Alaska.”

Ernie: “Bob, a Snicker’s Bar sells for forty-five dollars.”

Bob Barker: “I’m sorry Ernie, that is incorrect. Let’s go to Nancy.”

Ernie: (interrupts Barker) “No it isn’t.”

Bob Barker: “Ernie, a Snicker’s Bar sells for much less than forty-five dollars.”

Ernie: “Wanna bet? It’s forty-five bucks. I bought one on the way to the Barrow airport and have the receipt in my pocket.”

Despite the high costs and low temperatures, people stay. The majority are of Inuit heritage with a worldly smattering of other nationalities adding to the mix.

Most residents work in government service or healthcare. There are no lucrative oil-field jobs or other high-paying professions, which led to my befuddlement after meeting one man who relocated to Barrow from Hawaii and another from San Diego.

What drew them? The snowshoeing?

All in all, the Barrow residents were friendly, the food decent and the small, no-frills hotel, clean and comfortable. But two days were enough, and off we flew.

This summer has been unbearably hot in the United States and other countries of the world, but in a matter of months, when temperatures drop, I won’t be able to sit on our front porch or go for my pre-dinner dip into nearby Lake Michigan.

(Lloyd Beach - Winnetka, Illinois)

Also, somewhere in the dark corners of my mind, the terror of another school year looms - even through it’s been over a half-century since I sat in a classroom. Childhood academic struggles made me yearn for a summertime escape, a deeply-rooted feeling that never went away. Now it’s August. Our school-aged grandchildren head back to the classroom in a week or so. What happened to the old post-Labor Day start date? In my youth, a mid-August opening day of school would have crushed my soul.

So, in the little time left to run around in T-shirt and shorts, jump in a lake, or sit on a porch, let us make sure to enjoy what we have.

Summer -and life- passes quickly.

Especially in Barrow/Utqiagvik.

Summertime in Barrow

(NBC TODAY July 18, 1998 - Runs 3:45)

For paying subscribers, an opposite point on the temperature scale…a scorching 120 - 130 degrees in California’s Death Valley, starting place for the world’s toughest foot race. The course covers 135 miles from Badwater Basin to a spot on Mt. Whitney, over 8,000 feet above sea-level.

At the time of my story, the race was longer (146 miles) and end point higher up on Mt. Whitney.

Story below.

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