thillld

The Clickin’ and the Clack

The welded rail don’t click, and the welded rail don’t clack, and the huffin’ of the Choo Choo ain’t never comin’ back. There’s no one left so hardy, he wants to stoke the coal, it’s diesel or electric if you need the train to roll. Ain’t no rod to drive the wheel, no soot uponContinue reading “The Clickin’ and the Clack”

Ford Has a Better Idea

Well Maybe not… Back in the Sixties Ford Motor Company coined the slogan, “Ford Has a Better Idea!” Those were heady times, Boss Mustangs, Talladega NASCAR racers, F-150 Trucks, the GT-40. Everything Ford did generated excitement and sales. Trying to appeal not just to car nuts, Ford made all of their cars stylish and easyContinue reading “Ford Has a Better Idea”

The Deadly Cargo of the St Peters

The Upper Missouri Smallpox Epidemic of 1837 By 1837 the fur trade along the Upper Missouri had settled in to a comfortable routine. The advent of the annual steamboat had done more to enhance the trade than any other factor. Crews no longer had to endure the months-long, backbreaking journey up the river. No moreContinue reading “The Deadly Cargo of the St Peters”

Cognitive Dissonance

I’m the greatest by my count, ask me what I care about. I t’s me, me, me don’t you see? No, no, no it was never “we”. I’m the best, the cat’s meow, I care not for thee or thou. I can fix all things big and small, Just give my expertise a call. NeverContinue reading “Cognitive Dissonance”

“Doc”

We never used his name, we just called him “Doc”, He was my outfit’s Corpsman when I hit the Rock. Like the one’s before him, kept us all on track, From Iwo to Khe Sahn, they always had our back. Held Sick Call for the slackers, gave out APC’s*, Mecuricome got slapped on all theContinue reading ““Doc””

Métis

I never knew if she was Chippewa or Cree. Perhaps it was her French side a people called Métis. Somewhere near Red River, her forbearers did reside, They traded and they hunted and did it all with pride. The Company brought their fathers into the fur country, Their mothers were the tribal gals, the kidsContinue reading “Métis”

Mortared Again

Coffee cup shakin’ in his hand, Thousand-yard stare, poundin’ sand. Bad dream robbed him of his sleep, Wonderin’ if his soul will keep. The mortars from the tube they pop, Don’t know where the rounds will drop. They’re walkin’ toward his lonely post, He’s prayin’ that he isn’t toast. Then he wakes up with aContinue reading “Mortared Again”

Runnin’ the Border

Running the Bo It’s been five long years since we moved away from the border. I miss it, but it’s still only 20 miles away. It is a wild and crazy place, full of contradictions. Cultures collide, then mix and sometimes even meld. People are sociable, opinionated and thorny as the Cholla cactus.Continue reading “Runnin’ the Border”

Boot Camp

Hi-O-Lay! “Blee-Blee-O-Leh, Hi-O-Leh, Hi-O-Lay,” a song I still can hear, Though the rest of Sixty-Three, really ain’t all that clear. Gunny Buell countin’ cadence, beneath his Smokey Bear, Chest full of ribbons, though we never asked him where. There at the Depot, the Grinder was his home, Never let him catch you, lettin’ your eyeballsContinue reading “Boot Camp”

The Great Glasgow Jailbreak Glasgow, Montana 1903

I first heard the story from Tom (T.H.) Markle sixty years ago. As a young man he had come West to seek his fortune. He got off the Great Northern passenger train in a little place called Glasgow Montana one morning in 1903. Glasgow had started off as a railroad siding in 1887, but hadContinue reading “The Great Glasgow Jailbreak Glasgow, Montana 1903”