Serving Proudly As The Voice Of Valley County Since 1913
Serving Proudly As The Voice Of Valley County Since 1913
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Mary Jane had quite a tale to share. At this time, she was residing in her home on Central Avenue in Malta. She was part Chippewa and proud of it. In 1921, while she and her small daughter - about a year old - were visiting during Christmas time at her parent's home, they both came down with measles. Black dots appeared all over their bodies. Mary Jane wanted baths for both of them, but her mother told her in her native language, "Dear girl, you must not give her a bath - she'll get very sick."...
According to an old ballad, “Saturday night” was the loneliest night of the week.” Not so for the Circle Diamond cowboys. After their once-a-week bath, either in a creek during the heat of summer days or with a tub full of water heated on the kitchen range, the next step was dressing up in clean attire. With permission of the ranch foreman, they were off on horseback to Malta where they encountered a few girls quite interested in accompanying them to a dance at Wagner, a tiny but lively town west of Malta. After locating the off-duty stage...
Whenever Dorri and I visit on the phone, we can’t help but reminisce about our childhood days in Malta, Mont. Life was simple yet joy filled – in the Depression Days. There was an abundance of cottonwood trees to be climbed – oh what fun for us. After all, weren’t we tomboys? Dorri was the youngest in her big family, and I was the youngest of four – the two oldest were my brothers, then my sister, Hazel, then I at the tail end. With a six year age difference between Hazel and me, there was no playing together; but luckily, Dorri lived nex...
Around Christmas time 1921, when Mary Jane and her little daughter of Glasgow were visiting Mary Jane’s parents in Malta the two came down with the measles. The little girl had black dots over her entire body. Mary Jane wanted a bath for at least her baby but her mother, a Chippewa Indian, told her in her native language, “Dear girl, you must not give her a bath as she will get very sick.” In retrospect, Mary Jane said, “The older people are so very wise.” This is what did it – the baby became terribly ill. Dr. Curry was called in. He prescrib...
Those hardy individuals homesteading on the northern plains of Montana never expected the services that society now enjoys: There was on exception, though: doctors’ house calls. Living an austere life 40-plus miles from the nearest town was handled readily – that is, until illness struck. This happened in our family during the late 1920s. My only sister, Hazel, was struck by a mysterious malady. Word was sent to Malta with a neighbor who had already planned to make the trip. A horse-drawn farm wagon could travel the distance in two days – i...
The year was 1951. A larger bed for Baby Gregory was very much needed after sleeping in the convenient bassinet. Mother could, and easily did, rock with one foot while hands were busy with garden fresh green beans. Soon baby was asleep and one step in meal preparation was complete. This was Montana prairie life. Forty-seven miles were traveled to the nearest furniture store, McFay’s, in Malta. Mr. McFay was most pleased to show a lovely blond crib; no choice as this was the lone one. After examining this piece of furniture, the young parents w...
Hidden in the shadows of modern farm buildings, rests a gray rotting log cabin, whispering its memories of the homestead days on the Montana prairie, northeast of Malta. My sister and I made many a journey, through the crescent wheat grass, winding through the caraganas and between the plump grain bins, to the little cabin where we could turn the time clock back sixty years before our time. The cabin was kept shut by a weak, one-hinged door and what seemed to be an oversized wooden frame screen door, tied tightly to a coat hook with a golden...
Walking into our tiny living room before Christmas had become a yearly event for this older couple. There was a gift in hand which they presented to Mama and then relaxed to chat awhile. This pleasant-looking couple were no strangers to me as I had seen them weekly at Sunday Mass. Bringing an annual gift to Mama for some reason seemed to have significance. Living in the Depression era translated to living with the necessities of life and did not include boxed chocolates that my child’s intellect understood. Tea parties for some of the ladies i...
It was a pleasantly warm day which found my mother, Lena, her father, George, and me, a 14-year-old girl, walking on the outskirts of the little town of Malta, Mont. I was completely unconscious of the bit of history which I would observe this day while World War II was being waged in Europe. Mama’s long-time friends, Alma and Hazel Coe, had invited us to their little home two and a half blocks west of our home. The Coe sisters were retired country school teachers who planned on building two rental houses. The work was in progress, the excavati...
Pulling the fragrant golden loaves from the oven, thoughts of long ago flooded my mind. Mary, my silver-haired neighbor, had suggested that I reserve potato water for bread making. It does lighten up the dough, and I’ve been doing it ever since. This lady with her ability to mix nonsense with common sense, surely brought a lighthearted dimension to my lonesome bride’s life. A gravel country road named Turkey Track separated our farm houses, enabling us to visit frequently. Many times we met at our cluster of mailboxes. If a certain mag...
While I was attending high school in Malta, two south county ranchers were shot to death in the men’s restroom of a local saloon. The wild, wild west was not of the past; it was in the here and now! During the same time frame, a north county farmer/mailman came up missing. His frozen body was found beneath a bridge north of Malta. It was a sad state of affairs, the victim of gunshot was a family man. Ever after that, the bridge was named after the dead man. Many years later, I asked a retired businessman if the authorities ever had a clue i...
Editor's Note: This story was originally told by Mary Ellen DePuydt to our very own Helen. Hidden in the shadows of modern farm buildings, rests a gray rotting log cabin, whispering its memories of the homestead days on the Montana prairie, northeast of Malta. My sister and I made many a journey through the crested wheat grass, winding through the caraganas and between the plump grain bins to the little cabin where we could turn the time clock back 60 years before our time. The cabin was kept shut by a weak, one-hinged screen door and what...
Ol’ Norman has been gone a long time, but his stories linger on. The old gent nodded his head toward a man ascending the massive staircase in the county courthouse. “You know who that is, don’t you?” “Yes,” I replied, thinking that a rather unusual question. The distinguished figure with black overcoat and silvery hair was quite recognizable. I knew I was on to one of those tales that only Norm could spin. Norm considered himself a real died-in-the-wool Montanan. His parents of fond memories, homesteaded south of Malta, having arrived pen...
Suicide has to be one of the saddest words in the English language. It’s a word you are never ready to hear. Dr. Scott Hahn, professor at Stevensville University spoke of an episode in his life. He was enroute to a speaking engagement when he decided to stop at a nearby house, at the home of a friend, Dave, who he hadn’t visited with for some time. Dave’s mother invited him in while gesturing up the stairs. She mentioned that Dave was in his room and would be delighted to see him. Dave’s parents were divorced. Indeed, Dave was very happy t...
The Philosophy of Life...Don’t have one? Everyone has a philosophy. For example, the one that says, “That’s yours but I will take it.” That’s going on all over the world. Most likely you have encountered that; I certainly have. It happened 40 years ago, but I remember it as vividly as yesterday. My husband announced one morning that all of our 20-plus chicken friers were GONE! The door was closed so they hadn’t flown the coop. Nope, no fried chicken for our large family nor did the thieves invite us to dinner of our chickens! No siree ... o...
It was 1936 when Mama made a very wise decision, moving lock, stock and barrel from our farm north 50 miles to the county seat, Malta, Mont. Mama related to me years later that during the winter of ‘35-36, our well ran dry and in the harsh winter, our cattle ran out of hay. Luckily, our grandpa and uncle, who lived on the adjourning farm, came to our rescue. When our widowed mother had her cows shipped to Chicago, the prices were so low that she received a bill to cover the cost of freight – no profit whatsoever! Our house was moved in as wel...
By a prior agreement, Wednesdays are our special days together, right here in familiar surroundings. Most of the time I choose enticing things for the agenda such as bread making; grinding the homegrown wheat into fluffy beige flour. When Kelcie, my little granddaughter, gets a little older she will add the flour into the milk, which has already been mixed with the yeast, salt and sweetener, just as her sisters did ahead of her. Her part of the bread-making operation consists of cutting and shaping the resilient dough into whatever Kelcie’s h...
The headlines read: "Well-Known Educator Killed in Car Accident." But there was much more to that. Russell Grandel, geologist, his wife, Mary Ellen, R.N., along with their nearly 2-year-old son, Frazier, were hit by this man who came at them from the opposite lane. The Grandels were just moving into their newly-purchased home in the valley of Palmer, Alaska, and had decided to take a break by driving to nearby Wasilla. Russell, my son-in-law, saw the vehicle coming at them, but couldn’t completely avoid it. The impact was terrific. All the G...
Karolina’s most recent employment in Butte, Montana, during the early 1900s was turning out satisfactory, each position different from the previous one. Life in Montana was more diverse that she, a Croatian-born young lady, could have ever anticipated. Each position added to her understanding of some facet of this culture. Karolina opened the ornate handkerchief box which sat on the edge of the dresser in the master bedroom. Mrs. Hellstern, wife of Dr. Hellstern, had instructed her to air out this box upon completion of bedroom cleaning. An u...
My three preschoolers and I were waiting for the school bus. Parka-clad Steven maneuvered his way through the bus door, a paper bag held protectively in his arms. “Whatcha got, Steve?” “Is it something to eat?” Kids always thinking of food! We soon knew what it was because food doesn’t meow! With that revelation, my good humor evaporated! “Steven Robert,” I began in a firm, motherly voice. A child’s full baptismal name was reserved for serious occasions. “Mom,” Steve explained, “Mr. Thistle’s cat had six kittens. And he was giving them away!...
It was night and I had been sleeping soundly. Suddenly my heart is beating wildly and my thinking that cold hand so close to my throat. Irrational terror, plain unadulterated TERROR, struck me. I never ever had the possibility of sudden violent death in my bedroom! --- and I’m having to experience this episode alone! “Oh, dear God, I beg of you! --- Assist me, I plead with you. You alone can save me from whatever this man had conjured up to violently shorten my precious life. I greatly desire to improve/rectify the essential facets of liv...
A multitude of preparatory steps went into a typical washday in the homesteader’s modest home. It’s a certainty that the modern-day housewife would think twice before swapping places with the housewives of the early 1900s in rural Montana. Doing the family laundry was considered almost an art. First, the water was pumped at the well and hauled by a horse-drawn wagon, and then the cold water was heated on the kitchen stove – the same stove which heated the house and cooked the meals. There hasn’t been a central heating system built since,...
Diamond willows brought from the Frenchman Creek have played a unique role in the lifetime of Otto Kientz, providing him with a handy supply of slender but sturdy fence posts. Sixty years is an unbelievably long life for a post supporting several strands of barbwire and holding up under the stress of cattle rubbing, exposure to the elements, the weight of snow banks and accumulations of Russian thistles caught in the barbs of the fence. But these locally grown willow posts are still solidly supporting the fence surrounding the Kientz fields...
Correction: The last installment of Listen to the Quiet featured competing and/or incorrect spellings of the names “Kientz” (this being the correct version) and “Anne Poland Dippy” (also corrected). Certainly, no people lived closer to God and nature than the early-day farmers who tilled the land and ranchers who tended the livestock. The Kientz family did their part with constant toil and sweat of the brow – Mother Nature did what remained to be done, for better or worse. This partnership of man and nature resulted in large prolific gardens o...
The depression days have been appropriately named, the “Dirty Thirties” - dust storms often times obscuring the very sun in the sky – fierce winds blowing the thistles against the barbed wire fences, which in turn caught much of the moving topsoil which had quite possibly traveled for many miles before coming to rest in the form of grey banks of dust. There have been drier years since, but none took the toll as did these discouraging years endured by the homesteaders in the ‘30s. Summer fallowing, mostly on an experimental basis, was just begin...
