SNIPPETS - Farm Life was the Best Life.

The best times of my life were spent on a farm. As a young kid we had the freedom to run and play and just spend a whole summer messing around. The farm was a kid's playground. And as far as friends... well, you had six other brothers and sisters who were your friends.

We played on the haystacks and built forts in them until we got in trouble for pulling all the bales out of the middle of the haystack. We had rooms everywhere inside the haystack. What we didn't know was that the stack could have caved in anytime. Dad was so angry at us that day. We were grounded to the yard for two whole days.

We grabbed the cattails out of the creek by the corrals and pulled them apart to make a fluffy layer on the road and then ran through it pretending we were in heaven.

We bounced on dead bloated sheep bellies like they were our own special trampolines. We didn't realize they might explode at any time.

We sat on the corral ties and sang to the cows and walked the plank like pirates until one of us fell in the cow poop and then we all got in trouble. And then we stood and teased my sister who had to have a bath because she was completely covered in cow poop.

I was fed worms by my sister and brother, and we tasted dog food from the dog dish just to see what it tasted like. I even ate a robin egg because I thought it was Easter candy.

We watched as Dad milked the cow and squirted it at the line of cats that sat in a row waiting patiently to taste the delicious milk.

We swam in irrigation ditches and rode our bikes down dirt roads.

We pulled weeds in the garden as we sang at the top of our lungs "Mama Mia, Mama Mia, Mama Mihee-hee-hee -ia! (This one is for you Dar!) 

We played hide and seek in the dark and shadow tag in the moonlight. 

We found anthills and dug tunnels. Somehow, we never got bitten by the ants.

We ran in flooded pastures and got chased by water snakes. 

There were so many things for a kid to do that we were never bored. We stayed out until dark and got up at the break of dawn the next morning to run and play again.

The farm was a magical place, and we never really needed to go anywhere else. Because we had everything we needed on the farm.

SK VIRTUE

06/25/2025

 

Snippets - Tragedy on the Yellowstone River.

 The year was around 1967, and we lived on a farm just outside Billings, Montana. My dad worked as the hired hand, doing everything from milking cows to planting cornfields. Mom was always busy taking care of us kids, cooking, and feeding the chickens. For us kids, the farm was like a giant playground filled with endless fun and adventure. There was never a dull moment. The farm was bordered by the Yellowstone River, about a mile away, but Dad gave us strict orders to stay far from it. The Yellowstone River, though it appeared calm and leisurely, was notorious for its treacherous undertows and strong currents. Mom and Dad warned us that we’d face the spanking of our lives if we even thought about heading toward the river.

One day, while we were playing on a haystack, I noticed a man in orange running across the field toward us from the direction of the river. It was unusual because the farm was far from Billings, and we rarely saw anyone out there—most people drove up the road. I had never seen someone running across a field like that. I think my dad saw him at the same time because he yelled for us kids to get into the yard and tell Mom. We all ran into the yard, and my sister told Mom. When Mom saw the man, she made us go inside the house. Before going in, I peeked back and noticed the man was wearing nothing but an orange vest. Dad talked to him for a few minutes before rushing into the house to tell Mom there had been an accident in the river. That day, we learned how dangerous the Yellowstone River could be. The man and his friend had been rafting when they hit rough currents and capsized. The man in the orange life jacket survived, but his friend went under. The sheriff and emergency teams came to drag the river and eventually found the body caught on the rocks in the deep water. That image haunted us for days, and we talked about it a lot. To this day, I still think about it, remembering the fear and sadness I felt as a child. Our once-innocent playground had been shattered by tragedy, and it was never the same again.

A life Well Loved -1957 Chevy Nomad

    ****Back story. My mom and dad were married in 1957 at the very young ages of 15 years old and 17 years old. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dad wanted to marry her. My dad is Hispanic, and my mom is Irish. Mom's sisters and brothers were very much against my parents getting married. But my grandparents weren't. Both my grandmothers went to the courthouse with my parents and signed the consent for them to get married.  My parents were married for 66 years and had seven children. Mom passed away on April 2, 2023, and Dad is still alive at the time of this article writing which is March 2025. These are the stories of their life according to them. ******

The Nomad by SK Virtue according to Dad.

The 1957 Chevy Nomad was bought by my brother Stany for $125.00. It came through Whittier Buick, where Stany used to work. It was a lot of money to pay for a car, but Stany and I figured it would work pretty good for our growing family. It was a nice-looking station wagon. It was a two door and red with a white top. No dents or rust. And it ran good. And I figured it looked pretty good for a family car. 

 There was only one problem with the damn thing. When it rained and you ran through a mud puddle or water on the road, the spark plugs would get wet and if you weren't home then you were stranded until the damn things dried off.  One time we went to the grocery store to get ice cream, and we were almost home when it started raining. Your mom yelled "Hit the gas Gons, we don't want to sit on the side of the road, the ice cream will melt!" At least the car was fast.

We took it to Butte when I went to work at the Anaconda Copper Mine. The brakes went out in the switchbacks, so we did a lot of coasting in low gear to get to Butte. We only had a jar full of pennies on that trip to put gas in it, but it got us there. Your mom didn't drive it much in Butte, because all the streets were pretty much hills. I don't know how I did it, but I drove those streets. I just hoped nobody was too close behind me when I had to stop and go!

When we moved back to Billings we moved out on a farm just outside of town. I got the brakes fixed so your mom could drive it. She only drove it on sunny days though. All you kids would go with her to the store. One day she and you kids went to the store, and I remember she brought me a pop and doughnut out to the field. As soon as she pulled up you kids were at the window yelling that your mom had backed into a cement pylon in the parking lot. Your mom was so mad because she had asked you kids to keep quiet and she would tell me. Of course, you all promised but you kids couldn't keep quiet. I laughed and laughed.

We had that Nomad for quite a while, but it was a two door, and we needed a four door. I think we got a four door Ford wagon. One day two guys drove up and asked if the Nomad was for sale.  I figured I didn't need it anymore. I sold it to them for $250.00. I made a little money off it. I think they said they were taking it to California or something like that.

SK Virtue (as told by my dad)

6/3/25