Montana Cherishes Its Wide Open Spaces

Speakin’ of Montana, we see where old David Lamb finally crossed the Great Divide and visited the high lonesome. Not only that, but he blared his exploits all over the Los Angeles Times (Oct. 21), “Montana Cherishes Its Open Spaces.”

Hellfire, it ain’t the story we mind. We’re transplanted Montanans ourselves, forced to live in this California purgatory for monetary reasons. Any mention of heaven that we can find is welcome as a chinook wind in January. It’s just that we take exception to David’s ready knowledge of our state. Like he’s been there before. Like he knows what he’s talking about.

You take that line where he says it once got down to 70 degrees below zero in Helena. Bless your red woolies, David. What you got to understand is in Montana it snows in May, June is flood season, and we’re back to winter in July. One of the coldest winters we ever spent was in Glacier Park last August.

And them Wisdom cowboys you met drinking Coors Light? This ain’t no brag, but we’ll lay odds we’ve seen the insides of more Montana bars than you. Why, one of us was born in Butte and damn near raised in the M&M; and Walker’s Bars. And any Montana cowpoke who laps light beer would likely eat sheep instead of beef. There’s just no trustin’ a man like that.

Maybe them swill-drinkers was the first of the herd; the first great influx of city folks riding hell-for-leather into God’s country. Your story is certain sure to stampede the rest of them--the way you kept yappin’ about Montana’s eternal quiet and wide open spaces.

Speakin’ of wide open, David, why don’t you shut your mouth? The less folks know about Montana the better. Truth to tell, we’re sorry you didn’t head over east a piece to Drummond. You’d really fit in there. The citizens are right proud of their little town. They call it the “Bull Shippers Capital of the World.”

SARAH EMERSON CROWLEY

FRANK L. CROWLEY

Pomona