Tuesday, February 28, 2006
A Trip to Yellowstone – 1974 (Part 1)
I had just completed my junior year at the U of M. The last quarter I had lived with a quadriplegic in Missoula who was from Anaconda. I helped him with his meals and drove his van for him. I had decided I wanted to return to Anaconda having just completed my University Year for Action there in March. I wanted to get a job working at the smelter to truly experience the plight of the working class and identify with that Union Angst! I had built a small wooden camper on the back of my 1961 IH truck. I figured I could sleep in that and cook with my camping gear, no matter what happened. I arrived in Anaconda on a Friday night and made my way straight to Pal's Bar where I had spent considerable time the past winter. I met up with Joe La Forge, a Crow Iron Worker and told him my plans to work on the hill. He told me there would probably be a strike in July as it had been 3 years since the last contract. Then he proceeded to tell me Jennie, his wife had kicked him out of the house and he didn't know what to do. I told him I planned to travel to Bismark and meet my folks at the airport, and then take them to SD for a church meeting and on to Denver for the International Kiwanis Convention. He said maybe I could take him back to Crow so he could see his dad and get his head on straight about Jeanie. I said sure and we spent the rest of the night drinking at Pals. When it was closing time he suggested we go to Butte and spend the night at his aunt's house.
I awoke the next morning to find my truck parked next to a small miner's cottage on the edge of the Berkeley Pit. I was a little concerned that if I had not been more careful, we might have ended up in the murky drink itself! We made our way back to the freeway and headed east. We stopped in Bozeman for gas. After I filled up I backed up the truck to move away from the pumps and enter the convenience store. In doing so, I ran my truck into a young lady's car. This was no doubt a combination of my hangover and the lack of side mirrors to see around the homemade topper. I told her I could give her some money, but I needed what I had at that point. We agreed to exchange addresses, she would get an estimate and send it to me. We headed back on the trail. The truck developed an unnervingly annoying vibration at the speed of about 45 mph that made the truck bounce all over the road. The only solution was to drive slower than 45 or faster than 60. We didn't have a radio and the vibrations were driving Joe crazy, what with his distraught over Jennie also. We stopped in Big Timber and looked for a radio with no luck. Back on the road and off again at Billings. I was driving down First Ave So., when I changed lanes and sideswiped a cowboy. He wasn't going to hear of me giving him my address, so he followed us to the 27th Ave Safeway (now Albertson's) and I cashed $60 in traveler’s checks to pay him off. I think Joe probably figured at this point I had a little money, although it had to last me until I found some work. We then headed down to Lodge Grass where we looked up his dad. He said he needed to meet some other men and go take a sweat, but I was too white, so had to wait for him. We spent the next three days driving back and forth between LG and Billings, looking for his relatives, the man that held the lease to his family land and trying to get some money. I said I really wanted to go to Miles City and see if I could find my old girl friend Joyce who had been in UYA with me the last year, so one night we drove the back road from Hardin to I-90 and east to Miles. No luck finding Joyce. Joe told me he had been a tribal policeman and also was a one time pimp in Billings. He really missed Jennie and decided he wanted to go back to Anaconda and see if she would take him back. I said I wasn't going back that direction as I still had to go to Bismark. Back to Billings again and I loaned Joe enough money to take the Greyhound back to Anaconda.
I headed towards Glendive where my friend Kenny had gone after his year in UYA. We bummed around 'River City' until he had to go to work at the local radio station. I figured while he was working I could hitch-hike back to Miles and try to look up Joyce again. I made it there by dark fall, but no luck, so I turned around and hitched back to Glendive by dark. Another day or so, and a little pot smoking with Kenny and I headed eat to Bismark. I stopped at the rest area past Wibaux and saw someone getting some Ole out of a cooler. I was really thirsty and didn't realize I was singing aloud about my desire for a brewski. Fortunately he didn't pay any attention to me. I headed out and spent the night outside of Dickenson, ND. I killed some time there the next morning making sociological observations about the businessmen of town as they gathered at a local cafe for coffee. I didn't want to get to Bismark too early. I headed out around noon and met my folks when their plane came in. We drove down to the Standing Rock Reservation where we lived from 1955-62. We had moved from there to Pine Ridge after I completed the third grade. The truck battery started discharging near McLaughlin on Hiway 10 and we had to stop and get the generator repaired. We made it to St. Elizabeth's Mission where we had lived and the convocation was being held. The seven Lakota tribes of SD would meet and camp in their traditional circle with the Standing Rock or Hunkpapa occupying the space near the opening of the circle each year, just as they had when conducting Sun Dances and buffalo hunts in the past. My dad and mom visited with folks they had known. I met the daughter of another priest I had known growing up. She was a young Lakota girl who had lived in Pine Ridge when we were there. She was away at a boarding school at lot when I was in high school and we both had done some growing up and had some attraction for one another. Unfortunately we didn’t get much chance to explore these interests that evening as my folks had a motel in Mobridge and I had to drive them there. I spent the night in the camper outside their motel. The next day we headed to Pine Ridge where we spent the night with a church worker lady we had known there. The next day we headed for Denver. I stayed with my folks in the convention center there and attempted to determine where the vibration in the front end of my truck was coming from. A fellow Kiwanian from my folk’s home town of Reedley, California took a look at the truck and told me it could be the king pins. I figured I couldn't do anything about that til later, so I left my folks in Denver and headed back towards Wyoming and Montana. I was thinking, I could still get that job at the smelter before the strike in July and have the experience of working a short time at least and then being on strike.
I had just completed my junior year at the U of M. The last quarter I had lived with a quadriplegic in Missoula who was from Anaconda. I helped him with his meals and drove his van for him. I had decided I wanted to return to Anaconda having just completed my University Year for Action there in March. I wanted to get a job working at the smelter to truly experience the plight of the working class and identify with that Union Angst! I had built a small wooden camper on the back of my 1961 IH truck. I figured I could sleep in that and cook with my camping gear, no matter what happened. I arrived in Anaconda on a Friday night and made my way straight to Pal's Bar where I had spent considerable time the past winter. I met up with Joe La Forge, a Crow Iron Worker and told him my plans to work on the hill. He told me there would probably be a strike in July as it had been 3 years since the last contract. Then he proceeded to tell me Jennie, his wife had kicked him out of the house and he didn't know what to do. I told him I planned to travel to Bismark and meet my folks at the airport, and then take them to SD for a church meeting and on to Denver for the International Kiwanis Convention. He said maybe I could take him back to Crow so he could see his dad and get his head on straight about Jeanie. I said sure and we spent the rest of the night drinking at Pals. When it was closing time he suggested we go to Butte and spend the night at his aunt's house.
I awoke the next morning to find my truck parked next to a small miner's cottage on the edge of the Berkeley Pit. I was a little concerned that if I had not been more careful, we might have ended up in the murky drink itself! We made our way back to the freeway and headed east. We stopped in Bozeman for gas. After I filled up I backed up the truck to move away from the pumps and enter the convenience store. In doing so, I ran my truck into a young lady's car. This was no doubt a combination of my hangover and the lack of side mirrors to see around the homemade topper. I told her I could give her some money, but I needed what I had at that point. We agreed to exchange addresses, she would get an estimate and send it to me. We headed back on the trail. The truck developed an unnervingly annoying vibration at the speed of about 45 mph that made the truck bounce all over the road. The only solution was to drive slower than 45 or faster than 60. We didn't have a radio and the vibrations were driving Joe crazy, what with his distraught over Jennie also. We stopped in Big Timber and looked for a radio with no luck. Back on the road and off again at Billings. I was driving down First Ave So., when I changed lanes and sideswiped a cowboy. He wasn't going to hear of me giving him my address, so he followed us to the 27th Ave Safeway (now Albertson's) and I cashed $60 in traveler’s checks to pay him off. I think Joe probably figured at this point I had a little money, although it had to last me until I found some work. We then headed down to Lodge Grass where we looked up his dad. He said he needed to meet some other men and go take a sweat, but I was too white, so had to wait for him. We spent the next three days driving back and forth between LG and Billings, looking for his relatives, the man that held the lease to his family land and trying to get some money. I said I really wanted to go to Miles City and see if I could find my old girl friend Joyce who had been in UYA with me the last year, so one night we drove the back road from Hardin to I-90 and east to Miles. No luck finding Joyce. Joe told me he had been a tribal policeman and also was a one time pimp in Billings. He really missed Jennie and decided he wanted to go back to Anaconda and see if she would take him back. I said I wasn't going back that direction as I still had to go to Bismark. Back to Billings again and I loaned Joe enough money to take the Greyhound back to Anaconda.
I headed towards Glendive where my friend Kenny had gone after his year in UYA. We bummed around 'River City' until he had to go to work at the local radio station. I figured while he was working I could hitch-hike back to Miles and try to look up Joyce again. I made it there by dark fall, but no luck, so I turned around and hitched back to Glendive by dark. Another day or so, and a little pot smoking with Kenny and I headed eat to Bismark. I stopped at the rest area past Wibaux and saw someone getting some Ole out of a cooler. I was really thirsty and didn't realize I was singing aloud about my desire for a brewski. Fortunately he didn't pay any attention to me. I headed out and spent the night outside of Dickenson, ND. I killed some time there the next morning making sociological observations about the businessmen of town as they gathered at a local cafe for coffee. I didn't want to get to Bismark too early. I headed out around noon and met my folks when their plane came in. We drove down to the Standing Rock Reservation where we lived from 1955-62. We had moved from there to Pine Ridge after I completed the third grade. The truck battery started discharging near McLaughlin on Hiway 10 and we had to stop and get the generator repaired. We made it to St. Elizabeth's Mission where we had lived and the convocation was being held. The seven Lakota tribes of SD would meet and camp in their traditional circle with the Standing Rock or Hunkpapa occupying the space near the opening of the circle each year, just as they had when conducting Sun Dances and buffalo hunts in the past. My dad and mom visited with folks they had known. I met the daughter of another priest I had known growing up. She was a young Lakota girl who had lived in Pine Ridge when we were there. She was away at a boarding school at lot when I was in high school and we both had done some growing up and had some attraction for one another. Unfortunately we didn’t get much chance to explore these interests that evening as my folks had a motel in Mobridge and I had to drive them there. I spent the night in the camper outside their motel. The next day we headed to Pine Ridge where we spent the night with a church worker lady we had known there. The next day we headed for Denver. I stayed with my folks in the convention center there and attempted to determine where the vibration in the front end of my truck was coming from. A fellow Kiwanian from my folk’s home town of Reedley, California took a look at the truck and told me it could be the king pins. I figured I couldn't do anything about that til later, so I left my folks in Denver and headed back towards Wyoming and Montana. I was thinking, I could still get that job at the smelter before the strike in July and have the experience of working a short time at least and then being on strike.
