A tiny island near the tip of Alaska's southwestern boundary isn't the place most Americans are likely to call to mind when they think of innovative housing. But wee Atka, a faraway place that marks the end of  the Aleutian chain on the United States map like a last word lost to a trailing sentence, is aiming high.

Together, the people of the community of Atka would fill two average American school classrooms. Their community is as small as their environment is big. To the north is the vast Bering Sea, to the south the even larger North Pacific Ocean.  Isolated and storm-pounded, Atka is the last inhabited Aleut village on the U.S. side of the Aleutian chain, and it isn’t much.

Imagine one block of a residential street in any Midwestern city. Pluck from the homes the families that dot either side and drop them into box-like structures on a small island more than 1,000 miles away from the nearest urban area, raise the cost of gas and groceries sky high, eliminate jobs, teach people to learn to live off the land and the sea, and you start to get the idea of what life on Atka and in many of Alaska’s rural communities is like.

A wealthy family from the Lower 48 states might do OK with the change, able to use their cash to command top-notch housing and pay for the island’s $6.80 per gallon home heating oil. But in so many of Alaska’s poverty-stricken communities this is not an option. Disconnected from the road system, many are accessible only by plane or boat. In places like Atka, barges bring goods only a few times each year. Utility trumps pleasure. Real need trumps innovation. And while it may be trendy to be green, it can also be expensive. The Aleutian Housing Authority, which serves the island region in which Atka lies, is convinced better living doesn’t have to be, and shouldn’t be, out of reach.

“There is no group more in need of healthy, affordable, energy efficient housing than low-income people,” said AHA Executive Director Dan Duame. “The cheapest thing to do is throw a rectangle box on the ground, and that’s the way it’s been done for 40 years.”

'A million possibilities'

During World War II, the U.S. military burned Atka to the ground to prevent the Japanese from using it as a strategic outpost to advance their ranks. The U.S. Navy later rebuilt the village and residents moved back, but it’s shoe-box like, practical layout remains today.

Believing someone, somewhere would be up to the task of creating a better home for this faraway place -- a place where links to the past are as important as paths to the future -- Duame and the AHA teamed up with a building group that specializes in thinking outside the rectangular box.

“There are a million possibilities,” said Mark Mastellar, the Alaska Director for Cascadia Green Building Council, a group AHA turned to for something new.

The goal isn’t just a better house, he said, but the best house possible for rural Alaska. This is a lofty dream, but it could prove transformative for struggling communities, particularly if it allows homeowners to save money on fuel. In this case, the dream is a “living home,” a phrase that refers to the way the structure is built and interacts with its environment.

Most notably for Alaska, this project envisions a house that can operate without fossil fuels and generate as much energy as it consumes. High fuel costs in rural Alaska cripple the incomes of the already struggling families and communities who live there. Kicking the hydrocarbon habit – and the cost-savings that comes with it -- could prove revolutionary.

“They are stepping out on a limb,” Mastellar said of AHA’s goal. “Nobody has ever tried a living building in Alaska. There hasn’t been a living building attempted at this latitude yet.”

For Duame, the motive is simple. “If these communities are going to survive, something’s got to change,” he said. “Everywhere in the Aleutians is exceptionally expensive to live.”