Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies

Virgil S. Thill

October 27, 1940- January 8, 2022

May be an image of 2 people and people standing

APACHE JUNCTION, AZ. Virgil Stanley Thill crossed the Great Divide on January 8, 2022 after a short battle with lung cancer. Virgil was born to Rex and Marian (Wilson) Thill in Malta, Montana on October 27, 1940. He was raised in Glasgow and graduated from Glasgow High in 1958.

Upon graduation he joined the United States Marine Corps, in part, because he heard that they had a string of bucking horses at Camp Pendleton. Trained as a mechanic, he rose rapidly in the ranks and received a prestigious assignment to a Military Advisory and Assistance Group in Korea.

Upon leaving the Service he did ranch work and rodeoed for a while. A job with Montana Power in Havre helped him learn to operate and maintain construction equipment. He ultimately worked all over the West maintaining road construction and paving equipment.

Virgil eventually retired to Apache Junction, Arizona. Though Macular Degeneration robbed him of much of his vision, he continued to lead an active and productive life. He celebrated 31 years of sobriety last year. He loved the Lord, the NFL, the PRCA and PBR.

Virgil also loved children. His stepkids, nieces and nephews and younger cousins all adored him. He leaves behind his brothers John of Hico, Texas and Larry of Sierra Vista, Arizona, and stepchildren Debbie of Utah and Randy and Eddie of Montana.

Per his wishes, there will be no service. He wanted his remains to be sprinkled in a garden to help it grow. Please remember Virg with an act of kindness for someone.

Out Behind the Chutes

Out Behind the Chutes

Life is like a buckin’ chute, comin’ at ya’ hard,

get’s a little better if yer brother is yer pard.

Big brothers are the best, I’m lucky I got two,

now one of them is gone, and I’m feelin’ blue,

They taught me how to swim and how to ride a bike,

in between they took the time to take me for a hike.

Limp and wet, Virg pulled me from the pool,

And as I coughed the water up, he wiped away the drool.

One time, Virgil saved me from electric shock,

You could hear me holler half-way down the block.

They bought our Mom a present and said that I chipped in,

When we played a game of cards, they often let me win.

They taught me how to shift and how to work the clutch,

Though at first it seemed, I didn’t have the touch.

They took me to the Church and to the Sunday School,

They hoped that I would learn about the Golden Rule.

They bandaged up my cuts and washed away the hurt,

Rode me to the ER, when my blood began to spurt.

They grew up and went off to serve our great land,

I was so proud of them that they took a stand.

Later they would pave the roads and put the dirt in place,

and I would still appreciate their wisdom and their grace.

Now Virgil, he is gone, we’re left to carry on,

No use to fret upon, his final curtain drawn.

He’s crossed the Great Divide, made his final ride,

And if I even tried, my tears I could not hide.

One day my time will come, at the end of my run,

But Lordy don’t be glum, I’m gonna’ find someone.

Saint Peter have you seen him in his cowboy boots?

I’ll betcha we can find him out behind the chutes.

LDT Jan 8, ’22

**Virgil Thill**
Oct 26, 1940-Jan 8, 2022

**The Thill Boys, john, Virg and Larry 1957**

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There’s A Star-Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere…

There’s a Star-Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere….*

In the darkest days of the war,

did they know what was in store?

Toss that apron, roll up those sleeves,

let’s go beat those Nazis.

No more calls for America First,

we see the world at its worst.

Send our sons off to war,

we must avenge Corregidor.

Make this world a better place,

inspiring all the human race.

Stand for justice, Rule of Law,

don’t be Freedom’s last hurrah!

Show them all what Freedom is,

stopping tyrants is our biz.

We respect the Rights of Man,

the Constitution is our plan.

We lift up the other fellow,

Be he Black, Brown or Yellow.

Don’t take away his vote,

he is not your scapegoat.

Cancel all that hate,

before it is too late.

Serve the nation well,

ring out Freedom’s Bell.

If Democracy has died,

you, at least have tried.

A banner so star-spangled,

has all of us entangled.

Let’s do a course correction,

We don’t need no insurrection.

LDT Jan 6, ‘22

*In the dark early days of World War II, Elton Britt inspired the nation with the song, “There’s a Star-spangled Banner Waving Somewhere”. America put aside its differences, abandoned its selfish isolationism and went to work making the world a far better place. We became the Beacon of Democracy for the Free World and the oppressed peoples of other lands.

Image: Andy Kim — **Congressman Andy Kim cleans up after the Capitol Insurrection.**
Later, he would vote to affirm a Free and Fair Election.
The son of Korean immigrants, Kim served as a civilian advisor in Afghanistan.

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Elton Britt’s version of “There’s A Star-Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere” (1942)- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KwxVLQcG9pA

Don’t Look Up

I don’t watch many movies.

I rarely recommend them.

The Netflix film, Don’t Look Up is an exception.

It is a parody of and a metaphor for our time.

The plot includes:

A catastrophe facing humanity.

A nerdy scientist who becomes a sex symbol.

A beautiful whistleblower who must be silenced.

Media obsessed with celebrity and scandal.

A government in denial.

A bombastic President driven by power and image.

A tech guru with too much influence.

A coverup.

Exploitation of a crisis for political gain.

Decisions based on greed instead of science.

Conspiracy theorists screaming “HOAX!”

In the end a cataclysmic event destroys all life on the planet. One gets the feeling that this finale was well-deserved. The film is artfully produced and the acting is superb. Jennifer Lawrence gave an exceptional performance. Don’t Look Up gets five stars from me.

Perhaps the most poignant part of the movie was Yule’s prayer as the end draws near:

“Dearest Father and Almighty Creator

We ask for your Grace tonight, despite our pride

Your forgiveness, despite our doubt

Most of all Lord, we ask for your love to soothe us through these dark times

May we face whatever it is to come in your divine will with courage and open hearts of acceptance

Amen”

Joyride

**Virgil with Dad’s 1950 Chevy P/U**
The cracked windshield is left over from the
time I nearly put Dad through it.

That old truck was faded red,

it had a big hole in the bed.

Blue Flame Six beneath the hood,

as I recall, it ran real good.

Granny gear to get it goin’

no matter what it was towin’

Cowboy tough, like the Old Man,

it made the Thills a two car Clan.

Starter pedal on the floor,

mash the gas, let her roar.

Broke off key in the switch,

Johnny says, “That ain’t no glitch.”

Old screwdriver does the trick,

that ignition lock to pick.

Livin’ at the edge of town,

might as well drive around.

Mom and Dad, they won’t mind,

got no license of any kind.

Johnny takes the wheel with pride,

Virgil sits on the passenger side.

They had me ridin’ in the back,

Mom would have a heart attack.

We can’t drive it on the street,

we take the dike to be discreet.

Weave along the bumpy trail,

we’re too young to go to jail.

Johnny steers while Virgil shifts,

Tie rod’s loose, the front-end drifts.

Brakes are fair, tires are rotten,

but look how far we have gotten!

Cross the tracks by the river bank,

far from home, damn good prank.

See that cop out eyin’ us,

hope he don’t make a fuss.

Jurisdiction is a damn good thing,

city cop can’t end our fling.

Grindin’ gears, we turn around,

time to be homeward bound.

Oh, to be that kid in the back,

drivin’ on an old dirt track.

Learnin’ how to make our way,

In that beat-up Chevrolet.

LDT Jan 1, ‘22

Eventually all three of us got to drive Dad’s ’50 Chevy pickup. My first drive was probably the most catastrophic. I missed my turn, jumped the barrow pit, took out a fence and put Dad’s head into the windshield. I was 12.

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A Village Called Kin

**Kin Village, Okinawa**
The reef in the foreground was a great place for snorkeling.

Little village by the sea,

the simple life was the key,

A sandy beach, a coral reef,

the China Sea, its own motif.

Farmers, fishers, hard workers all,

soil to till and fish to trawl.

Sweating in the bath house steam,

refreshing tropic island dream.

Children in their sailor suits,

off to knowledge, their pursuits.

Toni’s Restaurant for fried rice,

that Kimiko sure is nice.

Akadamo wine, the local hooch,

not unlike a naisan’s smooch.

Orion beer is made right here,

make you see not so clear.

Typhoon rages, pounding waves,

shelter in the coral caves.

Goncho-San is ichiban,

up until his pay is gone.

Domo arigato, is thank you,

Sayonara means adieu.

Just a piece of paradise,

its simple life will suffice.

Let the rich have Waikiki,

Kin Beach is for guys like me.

Heaven waits to take me in,

at a place I called Kin.

LDT Dec 26, ‘21

Kin Village is located on the East coast of Okinawa. It is just outside the gate of Camp Hanson, where I was stationed for parts of 1964-65.

GLOSSARY:

Naisan- Young lady (Josan in the Japanese main islands)

Goncho-San- My nickname on Okinawa. It basically means Four Eyes and is used to describe anyone who wears glasses.

Ichiban- Number One, the best, as opposed to Number Ten (the worst).

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Somewhere….

Somewhere snow is falling, as families gather ‘round,

happy voices calling, hear their joyful sound.

Somewhere a fire crackles, warming up a heart,

casting off the shackles, no more to be apart.

Somewhere an infant lies, beneath a Christmas tree,

got her Grandma’s eyes, that smile she got from me!

Somewhere there are packages, wrapped in paper bright,

bought with workman’s wages, hoping that it’s right.

Somewhere children laugh and sing, while playing in the snow,

if the dinner bell should ring, it is time to go.

Somewhere a weary soldier, boards a late-night flight,

finally out of danger, he’ll make it home tonight.

Somewhere hats and coats, are piled on a bed,

there are many throats, waiting to be fed.

Somewhere a star will beckon, for he who chose to roam,

perhaps tonight we reckon, he will make it home.

Somewhere I have tossed, some verses from this poem.

It’s good that they are lost, they brought the darkness home.

Somewhere it is Christmas, may hope and joy renew,

A time for joy to buoy us, the Lord will get us through.

LDT Christmas ‘21

The lost verses:

Somewhere….

Somewhere there’s a chair, for one who isn’t there,

we’ll offer up a prayer, from those of us who care.

Somewhere a nurse is crying, she’s lost another one,

there ain’t no lack of trying, with everything she’s done.

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Christmas Blues (1999)

Another year is drawin’ down,

I’m sittin’ in a one-horse town.

The gold that glittered long ago,

went somewhere I can’t go.

There’s been trouble strife and pain,

enough to make us all complain.

Lost some ones that we held dear,

will those grey skies ever clear?

Lost some hair and hit a cow,

but to gittin’ old I’ll disavow.

Grounded the Millennium through,

is the lot that Kathy drew.

MS slowed the lover’s dance,

three diseases, what’s the chance?

When it comes to Christmas time,

will I find a happy rhyme?

A Norther blows and chills the land,

showin’ us the Master’s hand.

Snow falls on the mountain peak,

and somehow things ain’t so bleak.

Mint fresh air revives the heart,

time to make another start.

Thinkin’ back two thousand years,

ain’t no reason for these tears.

A Savior came for you and me,

full of grace to set us free.

Guess it’s time to string the lights,

set my spirits to new heights.

Wrap a package oh so pretty,

came all the way from Kansas City.

Wind the garland ‘round the tree,

hang some tinsel for all to see.

Ol’ Santa Claus will come this year,

‘cuz he knows that Diamond’s here.

Her Dad might make it in his truck,

if the weather holds, he’s in luck.

The gals will be cookin’ up a storm,

‘cuz at Christmas, that’s the norm.

We’ll tear into a pile of loot,

while Nikki checks it with her snoot.

Friends and family gather ‘round,

makin’ such a happy sound.

Rip the package open now,

later on, we’ll have some chow.

For Shooz there’ll be a mousy toy,

but Xena wants the real McCoy.

Nikki hides her bone from Sport,

it’s still there at last report.

Me, I’ll get a tool or two,

of its use, I’ll have no clue.

Ma, she’ll get some baubles fine,

they’ll get worn on down the line.

Though Kathy wants her car keys back,

she won’t be drivin’ no Cadillac.

Watchin’ football all day long,

Hey that Ref got it wrong!

Holdin’ Diamond in my lap,

rockin’ ‘til she takes a nap.

Finally comes the time to eat,

take one last look at my feet.

Plates piled high with sumptuousness,

cannot wait, the food to bless.

Dig on in, there’s plenty here,

you can diet all next year.

We’ll hide the scale ‘til New Years Day,

resolutions get made that way.

Merry Christmas! We all shout,

This ain’t no time for me to pout.

Guess I sort of like this day,

Cuz it takes the blues away.

LDT Christmas 1999

**My truck after an encounter with one**
of the Liendeckler’s cows

.

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Ford Blue

**My 1939 Ford Coupe. Glasgow, MT 1960.**

My first and last cars were both Fords. Black. Peppy. Small. In between them I had about 20 other Fords including 5 Mustangs and 6 Rancheros. I am partial to the Falcons, Fairlanes and Mustangs of the Muscle/Pony-Car Era. For me, putting a V-8 in the ’63 ½ Falcon was one of Henry’s greatest triumphs.

I’ve owned at least one of every V-8 made by Ford from the ‘50’s to the ‘90’s. My first two Fords both had flathead V-8’s, compact, and powerful for their time. I’ve had Windsor small-blocks in every shape and size, 221. 260, 289, 302/ 5.0 and 351. I’ve owned a Y-block (292), an FE (390) and a Lima (429) powered Ford. I’ve had 2 Clevelands (351) and 2 400M’s along with an OHC (4.6). It would be a tough call to ask me which ford V-8 I liked best. Like Henry, I think 6-cylinder engines suck.

**Towing my newly purchased ’69 Mustang Fastback home**
with my ’77 Ranchero.

I learned early on to change the timing chain on an early Windsor engine at 80,000 miles. I can tell you how to swap an anemic Falcon 6 for a small block V-8. I can do a disc brake conversion on an early Mustang. Need a better tranny for your Torino? I can walk you through an AOD conversion.[1] I can look at the top 2 bell housing bolt holes on a transmission and tell you whether it is meant for a Big Block or Small Block engine. (Except for those pesky 351M’s that are drilled for both patterns.)

**This is how you double the horsepower of a ’64 Ranchero**
in a couple of weekends

People who drive X-brand cars (Chevy’s) sometimes joke that Ford means Fix Or Repair Daily. Indeed, I have always enjoyed working on Fords. Over time, one develops a familiarity with the brand. There are little tricks that only a Ford fanatic knows. Like the screws hidden under a piece of weatherstrip that have to be removed before the windshield is replaced on a Torino. Make damn sure you don’t use the original factory spacer when installing an aftermarket timing gear on an early Windsor. If your late-model Ford won’t charge, turn on the ignition, pull the headlight flasher back 5 times and step on the brake 3 times. You have just re-set the battery monitor system.

**Our 2016 Ford focus had a lot of amazing technology.**
It cost me a $90 dealer scan to learn
about the Battery Control Module.

Over the years I have gotten good at swapping parts on old Fords. Trips to the junk yard were usually preceded by memorizing a section of the Parts Interchange Manual. Did you know that most old Ford starters are the same? All you need to do is swap out the nose piece to get them to work with a different engine or transmission. V-8 Falcons are built much stronger than their 6-cylinder counterparts, but the bigger brakes, more robust V-8 transmissions, differentials and suspension parts are easily swapped into them.

Others have found that swapping Ford parts is pretty eas as well.. My ’39 Coupe had a bigger ’48 engine and column shift transmission in it. Someone swapped an awesome 429 into my ’77 Ranchero. I was once overhauling what was supposed to be a 351 Cleveland engine in a ’73 Mustang. The crankshaft looked kind of big to me. Upon checking it turned out to be a 400M engine, never installed on any Mustang by the factory. I popped a ’67 Mustang 200 CID 6 cylinder and heavy duty 3 speed manual transmission into a ’62 Comet, making it a much better car. A 289 V-8 doubled the power on my ’64 Ranchero. Thanks to the US Forces Junk Yard in Wiesbaden, Germany, I replaced an ailing automatic transmission in my ’73 Ford van with a manual tranny in our parking lot. (I had to use a 928 Porsche to fetch some of the parts.) My ’70 Ranchero came from the factory with the highly desirable 351C 4-barrel engine. By the time I got it, it had a different Cleveland block with 351/400M heads on it. I got some of the lost ponies back by adding an aftermarket 4BBL and a mild cam. Then I swapped out the clunky cast-iron FMX transmission for an AOD from an ’88 Mustang. Adding to the confusion was the fact that the car had a ’71 Grill and late ‘80’s Lincoln wheels on it. It ran well on regular gas.

My Fords rarely let me down. When they did, it was usually bad gas or a dead battery. I once drove my ’63 Fairlane from Omaha to Utah without using the starter which kept sticking. I got pretty good at roadside repairs and have only been towed twice in my Fords. My ’62 Pickup broke a flywheel flex plate on the aptly-named High Lonesome Trail and our ’00 Mustang GT Convertible had the battery die on Interstate 25. I used to carry a spare ignition module for my late ‘70’s Fords. One cold morning I flooded out my ’69 Mustang after it stalled at stop sign. Then I got into my ’77 Ranchero and flooded it while trying to rescue the ‘Stang. It took our Mercury Zephyr to jump start the 2 of them. (Note to self: Keep good batteries in your cars.)