Tucked between the mountains and the sea, at the edge of Prince William Sound, there’s a small Alaskan town that most people have never heard of — and even fewer have ever visited.
It’s called Whittier, and it may be the closest thing to a real-life snow globe you’ll ever find.
Here, nearly the entire population — some 270 people — live together in a single building. Not a neighborhood. Not a complex. Just one, tall, 14-story structure called Begich Towers. A former military barracks turned all-in-one home base, Begich Towers isn’t just where people sleep — it’s where they live in every sense of the word.
Inside, you’ll find more than just apartments. There’s a post office, a small general store, a police station, a laundromat, a church, a health clinic, even the mayor’s office. And yes — there’s a heated indoor pool. In the harsh winters of Alaska, that’s more than a luxury. It’s warmth. It’s community. It’s survival.
Step outside the building, and you’re likely to feel the biting wind off the water and the silence of the surrounding mountains. For much of the year, Whittier is cold, windy, and covered in snow. Travel in and out of town is possible only by a single-lane tunnel that stretches more than two miles through solid mountain — and closes at night.
It’s this isolation, combined with practicality, that makes Begich Towers such a unique solution. When storms rage and temperatures drop, families can visit the clinic, pick up groceries, and even walk their kids to school — all without ever stepping foot outdoors. The local school and gym are in a separate building, but don’t worry: they’re connected to Begich Towers by an enclosed tunnel.
There’s a second condo building for the few residents who don’t live in the Towers. But for the vast majority, life really does happen under one roof.
And in a way, that’s what makes Whittier special. In a world where people often live side by side without knowing each other’s names, this little town in Alaska has found something rare: a community built on proximity, necessity, and quiet togetherness.
In Whittier, home isn’t just a place.
It’s a building.
It’s a town.
It’s everyone — together.
