I samband med boka jeg jobber med kom jeg over en interessant beskrivelse av hvordan Yellowknife fremstod i 1938, et par år etter at dette ble en bosetning. Det var lite som da tydet på at stedet skulle utvikle seg til den største byen i Nordvestterritoriene…Sitatet er hentet far P.G Downes dagbok, som ble publisert i Arctic Journal i 1986.
«It is a little difficult to describe this extraordinary settlement; it is a jumble of shacks, tents, frame buildings, garbage, dogs, scows, canoes, boats, planes, and cordwood, all flung and spattered over and about a bare knob of rock. Tents, shacks and such hang & cling like flies to every cranny. It is a raw, tough collection of humanity. A hugh yellow unpainted hotel dominates the neat, painted HBC building – and the rough log “Wild Cat Cafe”. Poker games – the professional gamblers are in – and whisky are rampant. Faeces, all sewage, runs directly off the rock into the water, and garbage floats about the shore beneath the crazy slab catwalk around the front of the town. The drone and whine of outboard engines and planes is constant, and everywhere are men, young and old, clean-shaven, bearded, in every kind of garb, talking or just looking. Gamblers, prospectors, bums of every description, half-breeds, one or two whores. Store keepers transport men and dogs. There is certainly nothing picturesque – it is all too raw.»