The Story Behind the Koot’s Windmill

The white windmill in the Chilkoot Charlie’s parking lot is one of Spenard’s most recognizable sights, but it did not start there. This original article is based on Dave Waldron’s June 9, 2014 Alaska Public Media story, which traced the landmark’s history through owner Mike Gordon’s own recollections.

Built by Byron Gillam

According to the Alaska Public Media report, the windmill was originally built in the early 1960s by Byron Gillam, an Anchorage businessman. It passed through several owners before landing with Gordon, who had owned it for roughly 30 years at the time of the story.

Gordon joked that his reputation helped him acquire it: people would say, “Why don’t you go talk to Mike Gordon, he’ll buy anything.” He admitted the line had a ring of truth—he had not long before bought a two-headed pig in a formaldehyde jar from a state fair booth, which still rested behind the bar.

“Under the windmill”

By 2014, the windmill had become a staple of Spenard and a piece of geographic shorthand. Gordon promoted events like the Saturday farmer’s market and the Thursday food truck carnival as happening “under the windmill.”

The story also revealed that the windmill nearly left Anchorage. Byron Gillam’s son Bob had approached Gordon about buying it back, offering to cover reasonable expenses to break it down and fly it to Lake Clark as a family relic. Gordon’s answer captured his attachment to the neighborhood: he would love the Gillam family to have it, but he was “not going to take it out of Spenard unless there’s another one.” His preferred solution was for Gillam to build an exact replica in its place.

A high-maintenance landmark

Gordon was candid about the windmill’s problems. The lights constantly needed replacing, the fan’s motor was burnt out, and the rare moments when everything worked together were, in his words, “a fleeting magical moment” he could count on both hands.

Then there were the climbers—people Gordon called “the loons.” The venue had not anticipated how many people would want to scale the structure, and the parking lot showed the countermeasures: concertina wire and barbed wire, “because some of the loons are pretty dedicated.” By 2014, the worst the loons did was throw rocks at the lights, which was why they needed replacing so often.

“It’s not a sign… it’s a light”

The windmill faced bigger threats in its early days. According to Gordon’s telling, some Anchorage residents once convinced the city council to pass an ordinance to tear it down, claiming it was essentially a fancy billboard. When the ordinance was presented to Byron Gillam, his reply became part of local lore: “It’s not a sign… it’s a light… screw off.”

Gordon said he had faced no comparable threats under his watch—one of many reasons he wanted the windmill to stay, whether the original or a replica. As he put it, the windmill had no enemies other than the people who threw rocks at it, and he suspected they did so not out of dislike but “because they’re stupid.”

Why it still matters

The 2014 story reads differently today. The windmill did stay in Spenard, and in August 2026 it came down temporarily for restoration—covered in our companion article on the windmill restoration. Gordon died in April 2026, making his insistence that the landmark remain in Spenard a lasting part of his legacy.

Together, the two stories bookend the windmill’s journey: built as 1960s promotion, defended with barbed wire and humor, and ultimately preserved as one of Anchorage’s most beloved roadside landmarks.