The Town Where Everyone Works the Same Job

July 20, 2025

What It’s Like Living in Whittier, Alaska — Where Almost Every Resident Works for the Same Employer

Whittier, Alaska, might look like just another dot on the map, hidden away between jagged mountains and the icy waters of Prince William Sound. But behind the snowy peaks and sleepy port lies a place that feels like it belongs in another world. Not because of what it has, but because of what it shares: a single building, a shared life, and one employer that connects almost everyone.

If you were to visit Whittier, you might think it’s a ghost town at first. The streets are quiet, and everything feels like it moves a little slower. But then you find out that nearly the entire population of this town lives under one roof — the Begich Towers — and suddenly, everything clicks. In Whittier, almost everyone not only lives together but also works together. And somehow, it works.

Begich Towers isn’t just a place to live. It’s Whittier’s heart. Originally built as a military facility during the Cold War era, the 14-story building now houses almost all of the town’s 200 or so residents. There’s a school, a police station, a post office, a grocery store, and even a church — all inside or attached to this one structure. It’s like a vertical village, and once you step inside, you realize this isn’t just convenience. It’s survival.

Whittier is remote. Really remote. The only road in and out of town is through a 2.5-mile tunnel that cuts through a mountain — and it’s only open during certain hours. In the dead of winter, fierce snowstorms and harsh winds can make the outside world feel unreachable. That’s part of why so many of the town’s functions, from law enforcement to maintenance to tourism, are managed or supported by the city government, the harbor authority, or the local school district. And that means most people are employed by the same handful of local institutions. It’s not a coincidence; it’s a necessity.

You’d think that sharing a building with your boss, your teacher, your neighbor, and your ex might cause friction. But according to many who live there, it’s the opposite. It brings people closer. When everyone depends on the same infrastructure, the same access tunnel, and the same small team of first responders, it becomes personal. Your job isn’t just a paycheck — it’s keeping your community alive.

One resident described it best: “We all wear a lot of hats. I teach at the school, I help with city council stuff, and when the harbor gets busy, I jump in. That’s just Whittier.”

Tourism plays a huge role in the summer months. Cruise ships dock at Whittier’s port, unloading thousands of visitors eager to explore Alaska’s glaciers and marine wildlife. During those busy months, locals often take on seasonal roles as tour guides, boat captains, shop owners, or even part-time cooks in the small handful of restaurants. But come winter, the cruise ships are gone, and life slows back down to the rhythm of snow and silence.

What’s striking is how much trust exists in Whittier. It has to. If someone forgets to lock their door, it’s no big deal. If the snow gets too deep and someone needs help digging their car out, neighbors show up without being asked. Living in such tight quarters and working side by side creates a strange but beautiful social contract. You know everyone. And everyone knows you.

Of course, it’s not perfect. Living in a building where everyone knows your business can be suffocating at times. There’s no such thing as privacy in the way most of us know it. If someone doesn’t show up for work, people start asking questions fast. If you’re having a bad day, chances are someone else in the tower already knows. But maybe that’s not the worst thing. Maybe that’s what keeps people connected.

Many residents have lived there for decades. Some moved in during a job posting, fell in love with the place, and never left. Others were born there, went off to college, and somehow found their way back. There’s a kind of magnetic pull to Whittier that outsiders might not understand. It’s not the isolation they love — it’s the community within it.

A few years ago, a video tour of Whittier went viral. Viewers were stunned to learn that this one building housed a whole town. Comments ranged from disbelief to fascination. Some joked it was like real-life Sims. Others said it was their dream to live somewhere so tight-knit. “It’s like an Alaskan Hogwarts,” one commenter wrote.

But the reality is far more grounded — and far more human. Whittier isn’t a novelty. It’s a reminder of what happens when people come together because they have to, and stay together because they want to. In a world where most towns are built to spread people apart, Whittier does the opposite. And it doesn’t just work — it thrives.

So, yes, nearly everyone in Whittier works for the same employer or one of the few city-run branches. But it’s not just about the job. It’s about the shared weather alerts, the single road tunnel, the cozy fire drills, and the laughter that echoes through the same halls every day. It’s about seeing your neighbor at work, then again in the laundry room, and again during bingo night. It’s weird, sure. But it’s also kind of wonderful.

Whittier is more than a town. It’s a reminder that sometimes the best way to live isn’t farther apart. It’s closer together.